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Vhe canon 

IN RESIDENCE 


BY 

VICTOR L. WHITECHURCH 




NEW YORK 

THE BAKER & TAYLOR CO. 
PUBLISHERS 




Copyrighted, 1911, by 
THE BAKER & TAYLOR CO. 


Prefatory Note 


Robert Burns’s immortal lines, — 

“Oh, wad some power the giftie gi’e us 
To see ourselves as ithers see us.” 

sums up the leading idea the author had in his 
mind when designing the story of ‘The Canon in 
Residence.” There is no doubt that, owing to their 
very position, the Clergy of the Anglican Church 
often fail to understand the ideas and impulses of 
thought of the “man in the street.” By a strange 
circumstance Canon Smith became forced to see 
things from the lay point of view, and the expe- 
rience proved of value to him. The author has had 
no little opportunity of observing life as presented 
in an English Cathedral City, and the best criticism 
that can be passed on this point of the story is that 
his friends and others have picked out quite a dozen 
of the particular English Cathedral Cities as the 
scene of “The Canon in Residence.” 


Victor L. Whitechurch. 


I 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


CHAPTER I 

The Reverend John Smith, Vicar of Market Shap- 
borough, got out of the little narrow gauge train at 
Thusis, gave his Gladstone bag into the hands of a 
porter, and strolled up the steep ascent from the 
station to the “ Hotel des Postes,'' pausing now and 
again to admire the ruby glow of the sunset on the 
snowy peaks of mountains that towered above the 
valley through which he had just been journeying. 

There was nothing particularly striking about the 
Reverend John Smith, any more than his name. 
He was a middle-aged man of medium height, 
dressed very correctly as an English clergyman. 
His hair was just a little tinged with grey, as were 
also his short side-whiskers. The rest of his face 
was clean shaven and of rather an ecclesiastical cast, 
but there was that half-apparent upward turn in 
the comers of his mouth that told he was by no 
means devoid of humour, while his eyes were dis- 
tinctly of a kindly type. 

He was not unknown in the Clerical world. 
There are pages of ‘‘ Smith ” in Crockford, but this 

I 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


2 

particular one, who was Vicar of Market Shap- 
borough, a small town on the outskirts of the 
Diocese of Frattenbury, had a list of books of which 
he was the author after his name, and by the titles 
of them, it was easy to see that Ecclesiastical His- 
tory was his hobby. In fact, Smith's ‘‘ Frankfort 
Controversies " was well known as a text-book, and 
his treatise on ‘‘ Some Aspects of the Reformation 
in Switzerland " had been described by a certain 
learned bishop as being ‘‘ the work of one who had 
a thorough grasp of the Continental ecclesiastical 
intrigues of the sixteenth century." 

It was this literary hobby of his that had brought 
him to Switzerland. He had taken a few weeks' 
holiday in the slack period between Epiphany and 
Lent, leaving his parish in charge of his curate, and 
had run over to Zurich for the purpose of consulting 
certain dry old tomes in the library of that city, to 
get information for the book he was now engaged 
in writing. Here he found, to his no small satis- 
faction, that his reputation had preceded him; and 
so courteous and kindly were the authorities, that 
his notebook was full of the information he required 
long before his time was up. 

So, having about ten days to spare, he had de- 
termined to put in some of them at St. Moritz, and 
having got as far on the road as Thusis, was looking 
forward to the wintry drive over the Julier Pass the 
following day. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


3 


At this particular time of the year the hotels at 
Thusis can boast of but few guests, and those only 
passing travellers staying for just the night on their 
way. There were one or two other passengers be- 
sides Mr. Smith, but they evidently were not bound 
for the Hotel des Postes,” and when he walked 
up the steps he saw that he was the only arrival. 

There was a solitary individual seated in the hall 
smoking a cigar, with a cup of coffee by his side. 
He was a man of about the same build and height 
as the clergyman, but of a very different type. He 
was dressed in a suit of a loud check pattern, he 
had brilliant, turnover stockings beneath his knicker- 
bockers, and a large gold pin flashed out from a 
gaudy-coloured tie. He wore a heavy, dark mous- 
tache, and was, in all respects, the sort of man that 
at a glance one would have put down as a typical 
British tourist of a class to be met with all over the 
Continent. One cannot go up the Rhine on a sum- 
mer’s day, one cannot take a trip on the Italian 
Lakes in spring, one cannot go inside a cathedral 
without meeting such men, similarly dressed. The 
foreign hotel keeper knows them well, and invari- 
ably charges them a couple of francs or so per day 
above his usual pension price, because he knows he 
will get it — ^these men being Britishers abroad with 
purses. 

He looked up quickly at the entry of the clergy- 
man, taking stock of him with eyes that were sharp 


4 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


and alert. He surveyed him narrowly from head 
to foot, with a restless, apprehensive expression, 
which only passed from his face when Mr. Smith 
addressed the proprietor, who bustled up to him, 
welcoming him in very fair English. 

Mr. Smith said : “ Er — can I have a bed ? ” 

He said it in the tone of voice of an English 
clergyman, a tone that no other profession ever 
adopts. An expert in human nature can sit with 
his back to an hotel entrance when a host of tourists 
comes rushing for rooms from an incoming train, 
and he will pick out the English parson abroad nine 
times out of ten by the simple intonation of his voice 
as he asks for a bed. 

Perhaps it reminds one of the Litany monotoned. 

Anyhow the stranger smiled slightly as he heard 
the question put, and went on sipping his coffee 
tranquilly. The Reverend John Smith was immedi- 
ately taken upstairs by mine host, and shown room 
Number 9, which he was assured was the best in the 
house. 

It was not; but room Number 10 had already been 
ascribed to the individual in the hall. Both rooms 
were warmed by the same stove, and mine host 
charged each guest for warming. 

They are hotel keepers by instinct in Switzer- 
land. 

The Reverend John Smith made up his mind not 
to dress for dinner. Enough that he was in black. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


5 


He turned on the electric light, undid his bag — 
which the hotel porter brought up — and took out a 
few requisites. After a leisurely toilet he produced 
a large manuscript book from the bag and perused 
it with much satisfaction until the bell rang for 
dinner. It was his book of Zurich notes. 

At table he met the other man. He, too, had not 
troubled to dress. The two sat face to face; they 
were the only guests. Being English, they ate in 
silence half through the meal. Then Mr. Smith had 
to ask the other to pass the salt. He hesitated, but 
the waiter had left the room for something — and 
he wanted salt. Having asked for it, and thanked 
his companion for passing it, he felt the silence 
ought no longer to be maintained. Etiquette had 
been satisfied without formal introduction. Of 
course, for the next ten minutes the conversation 
was confined strictly to the weather — its present 
state, its biography in past years and seasons, and 
its probabilities on the morrow. Then Mr. Smith 
grumbled at Swiss railways, and the stranger abused 
the hotel wine. This put them on a more friendly 
footing, and the conversation became general. 

They went into the hall together, lit cigars — for 
Mr. Smith was fond of a smoke — and chatted quite 
familiarly. The stranger was a well-informed man, 
and was able to tell his companion much about St. 
Moritz and the winter season there. Then the con- 
versation took a slightly ecclesiastical turn. Some- 


6 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


thing was said about the clergy, and the stranger 
made the remark : 

It’s a pity so many of them are not men of the 
world : excuse my saying so.” 

Mr. Smith smiled. 

I don’t think you laymen do us justice,” he said. 

There isn’t a class of men with such opportu- 
nities of getting a knowledge of human nature as 
the clergy.” 

“ And there isn’t a class of men who use their 
opportunities less — at least I think so.” 

“ Oh, come now. Just think a little. We are 
always mixing with all sorts and conditions of men, 
from the highest,” and here he drew himself up a 
little when he thought of his yearly dinner with an 
Earl who lived in his parish, ‘‘ down to the very 
lowest,” and he blew the smoke complacently from 
his mouth as he pictured himself visiting the one 
‘‘ slummy ” street of Market Shapborough. 

‘‘ I know, and I give you full credit for it. Don’t 
think I’m running the parsons down, though,” and 
his eyes twinkled, ‘‘ I can’t say I see very much of 
them myself. But although you may be mixing 
with all sorts and conditions of men, between you 
and the laity there is a great gulf fixed. I don’t 
want to draw invidious distinctions from Scripture 
as to the different sides of the gulf.” 

‘‘ I don’t quite follow you,” replied Mr. Smith 
with slight acerbity. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


7 


“ No? Well, frankly, I mean this. By virtue of 
your office and your uniform — that collar of yours, 
for instance — you create, shall we say, a halo 
around you. That’s the gulf.” 

Well, but it is only right that we should do this. 
Whatever we may be ourselves,” and he dropped 
unconsciously into his sermon tones, “ our office 
ought to be respected.” 

“ But you can’t fathom human nature unless you 
occasionally get outside that office. Let me put it 
to you. Suppose you go suddenly into a group of 
laymen who are talking, say, of perfectly innocent 
subjects. The feeling comes over them at once, 
‘ Hullo, here’s a parson — we must be careful what 
we say,’ and their conversation changes from a nat- 
ural one to a more or less forced one. You may 
think you’re getting at their human nature by lis- 
tening, but you’re not. They are on their best be- 
haviour. Best behaviour is not generally human 
nature ; come now ! ” 

Mr. Smith was bound to laugh. 

Oh, there’s something in what you say,” he ad- 
mitted ; but then, as I remarked, our office ought 
to be respected. Suppose I entered a railway car- 
riage where half-a-dozen men were using bad 
language. You wouldn’t have them go on swearing 
in my presence, would you ? ” 

It wouldn’t do you any harm if they did. Of 
course they wouldn’t swear — more’s the pity ! ” 


8 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ More’s the pity? ” 

'' Certainly. They’d either be silent or make re- 
marks calculated to deceive you. And you’d be 
impress^ with the guilelessness of the working 
class, and sum up human nature accordingly, bring- 
ing it into your next Sunday sermon. Whereas if 
they went on swearing you’d be able to form a 
better estimate of humanity, and preach them a 
better sermon on the spot — if you dared.” 

Mr. Smith took it good-naturedly, but was on his 
defence. 

I still maintain,” said he, ‘‘ that my presence in 
the railway carriage would be a salutary check on 
those men.” 

‘‘ Yes — for half an hour. And then, when you 
were gone, there would be an exhibition of human 
nature — at your expense. That’s what I complain 
of — a salutary check ! My dear sir, it isn’t simply 
a matter of half-a-dozen louts stopping their 
tongues. It’s more than this. Your office, and the 
artificial respect for it, prevent you from ever get- 
ting hold of thousands of opinions and thoughts, 
speculations and convictions. You churchmen are 
in a fool’s paradise, and the hedge round it is the 
‘ respect for your office.’ Some day that hedge will 
be cut down — from outside. And then you’ll 
see.” 

‘‘ You are candid — very candid,” said the clergy- 
man slowly. For a minute or two he smoked in 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


9 


silence and with contracted brows. He was not 
accustomed to have things thrust upon him thus. 
It was unlike the speeches of laymen at church con- 
ferences and opinions expressed in the correspond- 
ence of the Guardian. The other watched him with 
an amused smile, much enjoying the situation. 

Presently Mr. Smith remarked: 

‘‘ Most people are able to pull down prevailing 
systems, but few can suggest remedies of any con- 
sequence. You say that we clergy do not suffi- 
ciently understand men. Perhaps you can tell me 
how to do it.’’ 

‘‘ Easily.’’ 

How?” 

The stranger leaned forward and touched the 
other’s coat. 

‘‘ Take off this,” he said, ‘‘ and that,” he went on, 
pointing to Mr. Smith’s collar; ‘^put on ordinary 
clothes and drop the parson. Then go and mix 
with men — and you’ll see I’m right.” 

Mr. Smith coloured slightly. 

Really,” he said, you would not have me go 
about my parish of Market Shapborough dressed — 
er — well, like yourself?” 

And he smiled, in spite of himself, at such an idea 
as his eyes fell on the loud check suit. 

The other laughed heartily. 

No, not even this,” and he indicated his jacket 

would disguise you in your own parish. But I 


10 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


didn’t mean that. I referred to the times you are 
out of your parish. For instance, you are going 
to spend a week at St. Moritz just at the height 
of the' winter season. There would have been a 
glorious opportunity for you to become a layman 
for the time being. You’ll meet all sorts there — > 
snobs, scientists, opinions of the brainy and opinions 
of the brainless. It’s a little world in itself. You 
lose your chance of making the best of it by going 
there as a parson.” 

Mr. Smith was silent, remembering the stern re- 
buke he had once administered to his curate when 
he had discovered that the latter had donned 
‘‘ mufti ” for his Continental holiday. There was 
something in what the stranger said, after all. 
Deep down in Mr. Smith’s heart, almost smothered 
by years of ecclesiasticism and respectability, there 
still lurked a few grains of that spirit of adventur- 
ous enquiry that is the heritage of those of north- 
ern climes. 

And, really, now he came to think of it, he could 
recall more than one instance of the truth of the 
stranger’s words, instances when he had actually 
employed a layman to investigate certain parochial 
matters which he had felt that he could not quite 
grasp; simple things, but telling arguments at this 
moment. 

How long he would have mused over the matter 
one cannot undertake to say, for at this moment 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


11 


the waiter appeared, bringing an English news- 
paper and requesting orders for the morrow. 

Get me a seat in the coupe for St. Moritz,” said 
Mr. Smith, and call me in time to get some break- 
fast before starting. My room is Number 9.” 

“ Yes, Monsieur,” said the waiter, who spoke a 
jargon of many languages. “And Monsieur?” he 
questioned, turning to the other. 

“ All right. I’ll give you my orders before I go 
to bed.” 

With a polite gesture, the stranger in check mo- 
tioned his companion to make first use of the news- 
paper. It was two or three days old, but the first 
he had seen for a week, so occupied had he been at 
Zurich. He opened it, half read the leading article, 
glanced through a column or two of general news, 
and then his eyes fell on the words, 

“ ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE.” 

The very first paragraph under this heading was 
the following: — 

“We are authorised to state that the vacant 
Canonry of Frattenbury Cathedral has been offered 
to the Rev. John Smith, Vicar of Market Shap- 
borough, and author of ‘ Frankfort Controversies,’ 
and other historical works. Mr. Smith is at present 
on the Continent, and no reply has been received from 
him as yet, but there is no doubt that he will accept 
this recognition of his merits.” 


1 ^ 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


He read it slowly once, twice, and then he laid 
the paper down on the table, took a long draw at 
his cigar, and threw himself back in his chair with 
his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Perhaps it was the 
most delicious moment of his life; the more deli- 
cious because the news came in the way that it did. 
The man had a pardonable sense of pride, and this 
‘‘ recognition of his merits ” was sweet to his soul. 

Canon Smith ! ’' For a few minutes he revelled 
in the thought, silently ; and who would not forgive 
him? True, he had had some hopes of it. He 
knew, just as he left England, of the vacancy; but 
he had scarcely dared to think of it. Though 
known by his books, he had never taken any im- 
portant part in the affairs of the Diocese, and his 
living was not a very prominent one — and poor 
enough! The Canonry was worth five hundred a 
year — riches to him. The smoke which he puffed 
upward seemed to take the shape of a white-robed 
figure preceded by a solemn verger carrying a silver 
wand, marching to his stall in Frattenbury Cathe- 
dral. All thoughts of the stranger by his side and 
the suggestion he had made faded away from him. 
He was more ecclesiastical than ever. He had en- 
tered the hotel as the Reverend John Smith — he 
would leave it as the Reverend Canon-elect. It was 
a position of dignity; the ‘‘recognition of his 
merit.” 

Meanwhile the stranger had taken the newspaper 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


13 


from the table and was perusing it in his turn. 
Presently his eyes assumed the intent look of a man 
who is deeply interested ; there was a pause between 
the puffs of his cigar, and he put down the sheet, 
muttering in a half-abstracted tone: 

“ Heaven be praised for the newspapers ! ” 

Mr. Smith, in his reverie, caught the words and 
echoed them perfectly unconsciously. 

‘‘ Heaven be praised for the newspapers ! ” he 
murmured. 

There was a very long silence. Mr. Smith be- 
came more and more wrapped up in his dreams of 
Frattenbury Cathedral and Frattenbury Close, and 
the other man became more and more alert in his 
thoughts. Mr. Smithes cigar had gone out. The 
stranger was smoking his voluminously. Gradually 
an idea seemed to take possession of him, and a 
smile displaced his frown. His eyes looked tha 
clergyman up and down narrowly; then, as if he 
had quite made up his mind, he drew out his cigar- 
case, carefully looked over the contents, swiftly 
transferred all but one conspicuously dark one loose 
into his pocket, and then, bending forward, said : 

Your cigar has gone out, sir. Allow me to 
offer you another.’" 

‘‘ Oh, thank you very much,” said the clergyman, 
starting from his visions. It’s very good of you. 
Dear me, but it’s your last,” he added, as he drew 
it from the case. 


14 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ I’ve plenty more upstairs,” replied the stranger. 

I’ll go and get some.” 

The next minute he was on the first-floor landing. 
Carefully looking round to see that he was not ob- 
served, he entered room Number 9, and turned on 
the electric light. 

As is customary in Continental hotels there was 
a double door leading from Number 9 to Number 
10, in case they were both taken by members of the 
same family. Each door had its own key, on the 
inside. In three seconds the stranger had taken 
out Mr. Smith’s key, first unlocking the door, and 
put it in his pocket. He could now enter the room 
from his own if he liked. In another two minutes 
he was down once more, smoking a cigar with the 
clergyman. 

Presently the latter said : 

This is rather a strong cigar of yours.” 

“ Eh ? I’m sorry. I do smoke rather a strong 
brand, I suppose.” 

Well, perhaps I’m a bit tired. I’ve got a long 
journey to-morrow, and I think I’ll go to bed, if 
you’ll excuse me. Shall I see you in the morning? ” 

I’m afraid not.” 

Ah ! Many thanks for an interesting conversa- 
tion. But I’m afraid I don’t agree with you, you 
know. That idea of yours about lay clothes ” 

Try it!” 

Mr. Smith laughed. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


15 


It will have to be some other time if I ever do 
— which isn’t likely,” and he thought of the Can- 
onry. 

“ I wish I could make you go to St. Moritz 
dressed as I am. I should be doing you a service, 
really!” 

“ No doubt, no doubt — good-night to you! ” 

“ Good-night, sir. A pleasant journey to-mor- 
row.” 

Mr. Smith went off to bed very tired, very sleepy, 
very satisfied, and very amused at the bantering 
stranger. He undressed quickly and yawningly, 
praised God sleepily for the Canonry, and was soon 
snoring. 

The other man called for paper and ink, wrote 
a letter which seemed to amuse him vastly, and then 
interviewed the waiter. 

There’s a train at five a.m., isn’t there?” 

‘‘ Yes, Monsieur.” 

“Call me at four; breakfast at twenty past. 
Tell the porter to carry my bag to the station, and 
to get me a first-class ticket to Paris.” 

“ Bien, Monsieur.” 


CHAPTER II 


The Reverend John Smith slept exceedingly 
soundly. It took three attacks at the door to wake 
him in the morning. Finally he got out of bed, 
drew up the blinds and shivered — for it was a Swiss 
winter morning. 

As he prepared to dress his eyes wandered round 
the room. Suddenly they rested on a half- familiar 
object. Neatly folded, and hanging over the back 
of a chair, was a very loud check suit. 

“ Thought Fd locked my door,'^ he muttered, 
“ but I suppose I hadn’t, and they took my clothes 
to brush. I never heard them,” 

He smiled at the mistake of the servants and 
made for the electric bell. But, as he did so, he 
caught sight of a note pinned on the awful coat. 

TO MY REVEREND TRAVELLING COMPANION.” 

In astonishment he tore it open and read : — 

** My very dear Sir, — The vagaries of the strange 
world in which we live are responsible for the 
vagaries of the individual. I put a course of action 
before you to-night, and the contrary argument has 
struck home to me. You have hitherto viewed the 

i6 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


17 


world as a parson — I as a layman. How intensely in- 
teresting to change places and learn from the experi- 
ence! I am a creature of impulses, and, fortunately 
for the experiment, we are about the same build! I 
not only maintain the truth of the old proverb that 
‘ exchange is no robbery,^ but I make no apologies for 
conferring a benefit upon you. You asked me how 
you could judge the world from a different standpoint. 
I not only told you, but I give you, at once, the op- 
portunity of doing so. I shall ever rejoice in having 
helped a fellow-creature, and I am sure you will learn 
to thank me as I deserve. Personally, I anticipate 
much pleasure in acting as becomes my new position ; 
you have already given me more than one hint. 

" PS . — Under the circumstances a signature is 
superfluous. By the way, one of the coat buttons 
is rather loose, and should be sewn on as soon as pos- 
sible.” 

To say that the man who read this extraordinary 
effusion was astonished, would fail to portray his 
feelings as he stood in his night attire realising 
the awful circumstances. Hastily throwing on 
some underclothing he rang the bell, and enquired 
angrily as to the whereabouts of this terrible in- 
dividual. 

Monsieur left by the early train for Paris more 
than three hours since,” said the man. ‘‘ Is there 
anything wrong ? ” 

‘‘Yes — no — never mind,” fumed the other; “I 
will dress and see the proprietor.” 


18 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Monsieur will not forget to have his bag ready 
for the diligence f There is not much time.’^ 

It was all very well to say he would dress, but 
the question was, what should be put on? He 
bethought him of his clerical dress suit with its 
high waistcoat, but even that had disappeared ex- 
cept the trousers — and a stylish lay dress coat and 
waistcoat had been substituted. His very collars 
had gone, and some of a strange shape, together 
with some bright-coloured ties, were in their place. 
His pocket-book — no — that was all right, nothing 
missing from it. The loose cash he had left in his 
pockets lay in a little heap on the table. At least 
the rascal was honest. 

Breakfast is ready ! ” 

He made a compromise. He put on the black 
evening-dress trousers, struggled into the least 
gaudy of the ties, and then clothed himself with 
the terrible coat and waistcoat, cramming all the 
other things into his Gladstone. He could not 
descend to the knickerbockers. 

In spite of his irritation a smile broke over his 
face as he caught sight of himself in the glass. 
Legs and head ecclesiastical ; body and throat 
sporting. It was the man's saving side that he had 
a sense of humour which at times got the ascend- 
ency. It did now. 

‘‘Canon of Frattenbury ! " A verger would 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


19 


have thrown his silver staff on the ground and fled. 
The Dean 

When he thought of the Dean of Frattenbury, 
whom he had occasionally met, he laughed out loud. 

The smile fled from his face. He had to con- 
front the world below. Over all he put on the dark 
great-coat which had been left to him, and buttoned 
it up. His clerical hat had disappeared, but he had 
a travelling cap — besides a check one left with the 
suit. 

He read the letter through again and crammed 
it into his pocket. A flush suffused his face. 

How they would laugh at him down below! It 
was a joke, he supposed; the impertinent letter said 
as much. A wretched, miserable joke — an insult- 
ing joke, carried a great deal too far. 

‘^But the world will look upon it as a joke, all 
the same,’’ whispered his Pride, ‘‘ and you will pose 
as a laughing-stock.” 

Rapidly he turned it over in his mind as he went 
downstairs. He took his seat wrapped up as he 
was, at the breakfast table, began his meal, and 
asked for the proprietor. 

“Monsieur wants to see me?” 

In fancy the man’s face seemed even now broad- 
ening into a grin. He hesitated. 

“ The gentleman who was here last night — he 
has gone ? ” 


20 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ To Paris, Monsieur ; he is already nearly four 
hours on the journey/’ 

Er — what is his name? ” 

“ Monsieur shall see the Register.” 

The next minute it was before him. 

“ Henry Jones, London, England.” 

‘‘We have had others of his family,” remarked 
the proprietor, running his finger up the Register to 
find out Jones’s of former visits. “ Perhaps Mon- 
sieur knows his family in England, yes ? But it is 
a large one ! ” 

“ I know nothing about him at all ! ” snapped the 
other. “ I only wish I could lay my hands upon 
him, that’s all.” 

“ So ! But it is not possible to shake hands with 
him. But he left a message for Monsieur. He 
said to me to give his regards, and to say that the 
fine feather makes the bird fine. He said Monsieur 
would understand ! ” 

Monsieur did understand, and grew redder in the 
face. At this moment the waiter rushed in to say 
that the diligence was at the door, and the bag 
safely perched therein. Hastily he paid the bill, 
and stood for a moment undecided. But he could 
not face the situation, and he kept his overcoat 
buttoned. Before he could see a way to escape 
from this terrible dilemma he had mechanically 
taken his seat in the coupe, and the lumbering 
vehicle was off with a great whip-cracking, the 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

proprietor bowing on the steps and shouting, 
Adieu!” 

The Reverend John Smith, Canon-elect of Frat- 
tenbury, heeded not the magnificent scenery that 
broke around him as Thusis was left behind. He 
was grappling earnestly with a problem, a problem 
that harassed his dignity in the extreme. Presently 
he lit his morning pipe, and felt better for it, as 
every man does. Once or twice the palpable ab- 
surdity of the situation brought a twitching to his 
lips, to be followed by a frown of reflection. 

At length he began to see a way through the 
trouble. He reasoned it out somewhat after this 
fashion. It would be foolish to attempt to trace 
this Henry Jones. It would only make him ridicu- 
lous if the story got out. A position of some 
prominence awaited him in England, and it would 
never do for the Press to publish the unfortunate 
incident, as it very likely might do — with embellish- 
ments, if the facts of the case ever got abroad. 
His wisest course, if he wished to avoid being a 
laughing-stock, was to get quickly back to England 
incognito, go straight home in his travelling coat, 
and hide those miserable garments for ever — un- 
less he had an opportunity of returning them some 
day to Mr. Henry Jones with a strong piece of his 
mind. Very well, then. He would make the best 
of an unfortunate position, go on now to St. Moritz, 
leave the next day, perhaps, and travel home via 


22 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


the Maloja, and the St. Gothard. No one but him- 
self need ever know. 

His pipe began to taste more fragrant as his mind 
became somewhat at rest. The scenery began to 
grow upon him, and the keen, frosty mountain air 
began to exhilarate his whole being. His ridicu- 
lous position worried him less. 

“ I must make the best of it, that’s all,” he solil- 
oquised ; ‘‘ and, above all, I mustn’t forget that, for 
the time being, I’m only a layman.” 

Moreover, being an Englishman, and the circum- 
stances having to be surmounted, the spirit of ad- 
venture rose up to grip him. Wherefore he found 
himself saying that perhaps, after all, he might 
spend a day or two in St. Moritz, and not hurry 
away the next morning. 

Then the spirit of adventure took a firmer grip. 

“ Well, well,” he reasoned, “ it may be an oppor- 
tunity of learning something.” 

Whereupon the diligence drew up at Tiefen- 
kastel, and he got out, went into the hotel to warm 
himself, and to make up for rather a poor breakfast. 
Mechanically he unbuttoned his coat and stood 
revealed. A young man in a white Engadiner cap 
and a fur-lined coat was ensconced behind a large 
mug of beer. He nodded affably. 

“ Cold morning,” he said. ‘‘If you’re ordering 
anything let me give you a tip. The whisky’s 
deuced bad here.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


23 


A sudden hauteur assailed the good cleric. For 
a moment his face was a silent rebuke. Then he 
remembered himself and replied: 

Thanks. But I’m having coffee, and something 
to eat. I was rather hurried at Thusis this morn- 
ing, and had no time to finish breakfast.” 

Thus John Smith praised the Rubicon, while the 
other said to himself, being one who thought him- 
self worldly shrewd : 

Must have hurried up, too. Got his evening 
bags on I Been keeping it up a bit last night 1 ” 

Possibly it was the effect of that carefully se- 
lected cigar, coupled with what he was passing 
through, but his face did look a trifle ** washed out.” 

Going through to St. Moritz, I suppose ? ” 
jerked out the stranger. 

Yes.” 

Coupe? 

** Yes.” 

“ So’m I. They’ll put us in a sleigh at Muhlen. 
It’ll be deuced cold over the Pass to-day.” 

“ I suppose so.” 

** Not been there before, eh? ” 

Not in the winter.” 

Thought not. I’m an ‘ old resident,’ as we call 
’em. This is my fourth season.” 

They have a saying among the sporting set at 
St. Moritz that the first year you lose your hair; 
the second, your manners; and the third, your 


24i 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


character. This youth was an apparent proof. 
You also grow either patronising or snubby towards 
newcomers, the distinction being this: If you are 
alone with them you are patronising; if other old 
St. Moritzers ” are present you are snubby. This 
is correct form. In this case the youth was, of 
course, patronising. 

“ And do you come out for your health ? ” asked 
John Smith. 

Rather not. Fm not a ‘ lunger,' thank good- 
ness. No; I come out for the fun of the thing. 
Tobogganing and all that, you know." 

Presently they both got into the coupe, and went 
lumbering on. The young man was talkative. He 
told his companion all about the “ Cresta Run " and 
the times of last year’s winners; he expatiated on 
the pleasures of bob-sleighing, and he grew exceed- 
ingly slangy. John Smith listened with half- 
amused, half-surprised interest, as the garrulous 
youth ran on; and though several times he was on 
the point of uttering a checking word, he remem- 
bered his new role, and restrained himself. It was 
years since he had heard a man talk freely like this, 
and though it was mostly sporting drivel, and harm- 
less enough in its way, John Smith found himself 
more than once reluctantly confessing that there 
was some truth in the remarks of the stranger of 
the previous evening. 

At Miihlen there was a halt for a hasty meal, 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


25 


and then the two men found themselves in a sleigh, 
the driver standing on the footboard' behind, smok- 
ing his thin, long cigar. 

Going to make a long stay ? ” asked the youth. 

No ; only a day or two, I think.” 

Ah ! Pity you can’t stop till the ‘ Grand Na- 
tional.’ That’s the big wind-up of the ‘ Cresta 
Run,’ you know. It’s worth seeing.” 

** Are you racing? ” 

“ Rather ! Don’t stand much chance, though. I 
was fairly fit last season; sold for seven hundred 
francs.” 

“ I — er — don’t quite understand ? ” 

“ Sweepstakes, you know. Fellow that drew my 
name sold it for seven hundred at the auction, see ? 
It was a girl who bought it — ^jolly fine girl, too. 
I was a bit gone on her, and then, as luck would 
have it, I came a mucker over the bank on my third 
run. So she lost her seven hundred francs. By 
George, and she was mad about it, too. Wouldn’t 
speak to me for the rest of the season. Look here. 
I’ll give you a tip. If you do stay on for the 
‘ Grand National,’ you just plank your cash on a 
chap named Fraser. He’s the winner this season, 
for a dead cert.” 

I don’t bet,” said John Smith unguardedly. 

“No? You look a sporting man, too. Some 
fellows don’t, though. We had a parson staying 
at the hotel last season. Of course he didn’t bet. 


26 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Well, you know, we shouldn’t have thought much 
of him if he had.” 

This was a strange revelation to John Smith, 
this judgment of the cloth.” The youth rattled 
on: 

But this particular devil-dodger was so beastly 
sanctimonious about it. He didn’t drink and he 
didn’t smoke. Well, we’d have forgiven him that, 
but he paraded it about so much, with a kind of 
‘ silent example ’ sort of manner. And he’d make 
pointed remarks at table — awfully rude, you know 
— remarks ai people that you couldn’t exactly lay 
hold of. The beggar! He knew very well that 
just because he was a parson you couldn’t go for 
him and have the thing out as man to man. I do 
like a chap to be human, even if he wears a white 
choker ; don’t you ? ” 

John Smith reflected for a moment, and was 
about to reply, when his companion went on with- 
out waiting for him : 

By George, he was a ranker ! At the auction 
for the ‘ Grand National ’ sweep in the hotel hall 
he sat where every one could see him, reading an 
anti-betting tract with a title in big letters. Awful 
pity! A chap like that does a lot of harm to his 
own church. Of course there are decent parsons, 
don’t you know ? ” 

I suppose you mean the sporting variety ? ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 27 

hazarded John Smith, whose curiosity was strug- 
gling with his clerical dignity. 

‘‘ Oh, not exactly,’’ answered the youth; I know 
a fellow at home who’s never been on d. horse or 
handled a gun or that sort of thing all his life. 
Works in the slums, and rather likes it. But he’s 
a man all the time. That makes the difference. 
I’d stand a ragging from him, while I’d feel like 
punching the other beggar’s head if he looked at 
me. Hullo, we’re getting on — jolly near the Pass 
now. It’s a good grind up.” 

Gradually the bare firs and larches had become 
thinner and thinner until now they had entirely 
disappeared, and there was nothing to relieve the 
dazzling white monotony of snow except the gi- 
gantic peaks towering in the foreground, and catch- 
ing the last rays of the afternoon sun. The silence 
was intense, only broken by the everlasting tinkle 
of the horse’s bells as the sleigh went on between 
the high banks of snow on either side. It was a 
toilsome pull-up to the top of the Pass, and John 
Smith was not sorry for the few minutes’ rest 
inside the stuffy little hospice at the top, and the 
cup of hot coffee which made its appearance. 

He was getting a little tired of his journey. His 
companion was beginning to bore him with his 
chatter, and he felt almost an aversion towards him. 
At the same time, he could not help confessing to 


28 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


himself that it a novel experience to meet with 
this unrestraiiibd familiarity. Once or twice he 
found himself wondering how this young man 
would have treated him had he known his position, 
and then he fell to comparing himself with this 
obnoxious cleric of whom he had heard. Well, 
perhaps he was a little less of a prig -and more 
“ human.’^ At all events he liked his pipe, and a 
glass of wine in moderation. But he hated gam- 
bling. And yet this callow youth had said that it 
was not the man’s anti-betting proclivities which 
were disagreeable, but his manner of showing them. 
Thus John Smith found himself working out a 
problem. Where was the exact line of moral influ- 
ence to be drawn? And the solution seemed to lie 
in the following: — ‘‘First probe the ground to be 
influenced.” Yes — that was the mistake this un- 
known cleric had made. He had not understood 
rightly the men around him: obviously he had not 
understood this youth, because, by the latter’s con- 
fession, he was capable of being influenced. 

And then, the argument of the previous evening 
flashed across him. This was exactly the charge 
which that detestable practical joker had brought 
against him! It was too absurd. 

So he gave it up for the time, and began admiring 
the scenery. As they sped down the other side of 
the Pass, the Engadine mountains with the grand 
Bernina Range beyond opened out their wondrous 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


29 


vista. From delicate pink to rosy ^violet the peaks 
changed colour, ever varying as the twilight failed. 
He lost himself in the contemplation of Nature’s 
marvellous greatness and beauty. He heeded not 
the talk of his companion. 

The moon rose as they journeyed from Silva 
Plana along the valley, passing silent and deserted 
Campfer. And presently a turn in the road brought 
them to a glimpse of twinkling lights through the 
pines, and St. Moritz itself, looking in the soft moon- 
light like a fairy village set in the midst of some 
enchanted transformation scene, stood before them. 

A bustle and confusion as the post came in ! A 
dismounting and a stamping of icy feet in the crisp, 
crackling snow ! A few directions to a porter, and 
John Smith wended his way to an hotel, the young 
man following close at his heels. 

There was just time to dress before dinner. 
After the exhilaration of the journey John Smith’s 
heart began to sink when he reflected upon his situa- 
tion. He had qualms about it. It was downright 
masquerading. He threw off the hateful check coat 
and waistcoat, and proceeded to put on the rest of 
the dress garments. Then he looked at himself in 
the glass and shook his head, half in sorrow, half 
in anger. 

Suppose he were to meet any one he knew? 
Well, the dress suit was not so bad. Many clergy- 
men wore open waistcoats and white shirt fronts. 


so 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


If he did see any one at the table, he could take his 
departure the next morning. 

But, unfortunately, the youth had seen his other 
garments! What a fool he had been! He ought 
to have taken measures at once that morning. 

What measures? The wretched man was three 
hours on his way to Paris before he found out the 
trick. He could never have caught him. The only 
thing he could have done would have been to tell 
the hotel proprietor everything, and then make his 
way back to England. 

Well, he was making his way back to England 
via St. Moritz. And he was doing no harm. It 
was a little undignified, but that was all. 

And, he was learning something! In spite of 
himself he half admitted it. Anyhow, the spirit of 
adventure rose once more triumphant. He was in 
a fix, and, like the Englishman he was, he was de- 
termined to see it through — in spite — in spite of the 
fact that he was a Canon-elect of the Very Respect- 
able Anglican Church. 

Without thinking, he put his fingers into his 
waistcoat pockets. It was a habit of his. In one 
of them he felt paper. Perhaps it would give him 
a clue as to the owner’s identity, so he pulled it out 
hastily. ^ 

It was crisp and thin. He unfolded it. A Bank 
of England note for twenty pounds ! 

Then the hotel bell rang for dinner. 


CHAPTER III 


“ I woN^T ask you the conventional question, 
‘ What sort of a journey did you have over the 
Pass ? ' Pm tired of hearing it asked. But we 
must begin somehow, you know, for it seems we 
are to be companions at table. Have you been 
here before? ” 

John Smith laid down the soup spoon he had 
just taken up, and looked at the girl who was sitting 
next to him, looked at her in some surprise, for he 
was unaccustomed to be spoken to by strange 
women thus spasmodically, even at the same dinner- 
table. 

“ Never,’’ he replied. 

Then Fm sure you’ll be all the more interesting 
to talk with. It’s my first visit, too, and I’m foolish 
enough to be enthusiastic about it. You know it’s 
the fashion for the ‘ old St. Moritzers,’ as they call 
themselves, to snub anything like enthusiasm — ex- 
cept about sport. It’s such a pity, I think; don’t 
you ? ” 

‘‘ What kind of enthusiasm do you refer to? ” he 
asked. 

“ Oh, lots of things. The freshness of it all, the 
31 


S2 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


scenery, and the climate — everything. Now, for 
instance, that drive over the Pass — by the way, I 
am referring to it, you see — I don’t think I ever 
enjoyed anything so much in my life, and I long 
to do it over again. And yet there are actually 
people here who can travel the whole way without 
noticing a thing, and who seem to think that because 
they’ve done it once they ought to be bored with 
it for ever afterwards. There are four men here 
who came over together, and boast that they played 
bridge the whole way. Can you imagine it ? ” 
No,” said John Smith, ‘‘ I can’t. I enjoyed the 
journey immensely — that is, parts of it.” 

For he thought of the first stage, and partly of 
the tiring chatter of the youth. 

“ Have you been here long? ” he added. 

She turned a pair of remarkably fine dark eyes 
upon him, eyes that scanned his face clearly, as she 
replied : 

‘‘ We came a fortnight before Christmas.” 

He looked beyond her for the ‘‘ we,” and noticed 
a quiet, grey-haired lady seated on the other side 
of her. 

So you are getting quite used to the life, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

“Yes,” she answered; “but the height of the 
season has only just begun. The sporting set don’t 
come out much before the middle of January. It’s 
the invalids that come early, you know.” 


the canon in residence S3 

He looked at her again, and noticed the colour 
on her cheeks. 

‘‘ You will pardon me if I am wrong,” he an- 
swered, “ but at all events you don’t look like an 
invalid.” 

Oh, but I am, I assure you. Not a very bad 
one, but just sufficient to warrant a winter out here. 
I suppose you’ve come for sport?” 

She glanced at him just a little curiously. He 
was by no means unprepossessing, and his face had 
a kindly expression on it. He looked what he 
might easily have been at the moment, a middle- 
aged gentleman, of no particular occupation, who 
had come out there to enjoy himself. 

“ No,” he answered, ‘‘ mine is only a flying visit 
— I may even leave to-morrow — I haven’t made up 
my mind yet.” 

“ Oh, don’t do that ! When you see the place to- 
morrow you won’t want to tear yourself away from 
it in such a hurry. You must stay a week at least. 
What attraction shall I hold out to detain you? 
Skating, tobogganing, dancing — there’s a dance here 
to-morrow night — amateur theatricals on Tuesday 
— or do you play bridge ? ” 

A grim little humorous smile lit up John Smith’s 
face at this list of temptations. 

“ My dear young lady,” he said, ‘‘ none of these 
things would induce me to stay. Can you offer 
anything else? ” 


34 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Yes. Two things. Beautiful scenery and hu- 
man nature. Plenty of both.” 

“And which presents the greatest attraction?” 

“ Oh, that depends upon your bent of philoso- 
phy,” she replied, with a little shrug of her shoul- 
ders. “If you are a cynic you may take the view 
that ‘ every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.' 
If you are broad-minded you will let both please 
you. But perhaps you are not a philosopher at 
all?” 

“ Well, I think you might place me in that cate- 
gory.” 

“ Cynic?” 

“ Not exactly.” 

“ I’m so glad. It’s hateful to take the view ' that 
only man is vile,’ isn’t it? I never will sing that 
line in the hymn. It’s positively horrid to think 
yourself so much better than other people. Those 
are the real vile persons — those who judge others 
from their own little exalted pedestal. Don’t you 
think so ? ” 

John Smith was beginning to wonder. It had 
been a day of surprises, and this bright, vivacious 
girl was the biggest surprise of them all, so far. 

“ Well,” he said, “ I don’t know whether I ex- 
actly agree with you. No doubt pride has a lot to 
answer for. It’s a grave sin, but ” 

He stopped short. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


35 


‘‘But what?’' she asked, turning her eyes full 
upon him, eyes that would not be thwarted. 

“ There must be standpoints of judgment.” 

He was thinking of his own ecclesiastical position. 

“ I daresay. But what I object to are stand- 
points of condemnation. You put it down to pride, 
but do you think it is always pride? In many 
cases it is just the want of an open mind that makes 
us condemn others. Prejudice has quite as much 
to answer for as pride — ^prejudice and convention- 
ality.” 

There was silence for a few minutes, during 
which John Smith pondered deeply. This strange 
young woman rather baffled him, she was so per- 
fectly natural. Being an ecclesiastic he thought he 
knew much of women. So he did, in one sense of 
the word. But his district visitors and Sunday 
School teachers had perhaps never shown him quite 
as much of themselves during the years he had 
been in Market Shapborough as this girl had in the 
half-hour or so they had been seated at table. He 
had been accustomed to tacitly despise women, 
apart from the acknowledgment that they had their 
spheres of usefulness. He had rather shrunk than 
otherwise from any close companionship with them 
— apart from the conventional round of teas and 
social amenities in which he considered it more or 
less of a “ pastoral duty ” to figure. 


36 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


He turned to her with interest as she spoke to 
him again. The conversation led to some political 
question. He was surprised to find a woman tak- 
ing such a keen interest in it. A word or two 
she dropped on the subject brought a smile to his 
lips. 

‘‘You are quite a Socialist!” he exclaimed. 

“ Am I ? Very likely ; I only know I don’t be- 
lieve in the policy of ‘as it was in the beginning is 
now and ever shall be/ though that’s the policy I’ve 
been brought up in.” 

“ Indeed?” 

“ Oh, my father is a strict Tory of the old school. 
We have fearful arguments, I assure you. He’s 
quite horrified with me at times.” 

“ I suppose he must be,” replied John Smith un- 
thinkingly. 

She laughed lightly. 

“ As apparently you are too,” she said. “ I 
hope I haven’t shocked your sense of convention- 
ality — the natural right of an Englishman. Come,” 
she added, turning to her companion, “ you’ve 
finished, and I know you’re thinking of coffee.” 

She rose from her seat, making a slight inclina- 
tion to John Smith, who bowed in return, and, tak- 
ing the arm of the other lady, walked out of the 
room. 

The Canon-elect followed her with his eyes. She 
was rather above the middle height, well formed, 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


37 


and graceful. The black evening gown she was 
wearing, with its collaret of Venetian point lace, 
suited her well. Presently he got up and joined 
the crowd that flowed out from the salle a manger 
into the hall — the popular after-dinner resort. 
Here he seated himself. A babel arose. Men 
smoked, women talked, waiters glided through the 
groups with coffee and liqueurs. Presently John 
Smith's travelling companion sauntered up, hands 
in pockets, cigar in mouth. 

‘‘ Hullo," he said, ‘‘ getting on all right? By the 
way, that beggar's here again." 

Who?" 

The parson I told you of." 

He jerked his shoulder, and John Smith’s eyes 
followed its direction. Severely alone there sat a 
stiff, middle-aged man, with thin, sandy whiskers, 
compressed lips, and frowning brow, dressed in 
strict clerical garb and reading an ecclesiastical 
newspaper, the title of which was somewhat osten- 
tatiously displayed. 

“ I'd like to kick the beast ! " 

He sat down by John Smith. Old acquaintances 
came up and greeted him, flinging themselves into 
chairs and ordering liqueurs. By degrees John 
Smith found himself in the midst of quite a group 
of men, listening to their conversation, and now 
and then taking part in it. A good dinner and a 
good cigar work wonders. He forgot the worries 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


eS8 

of the day, and was rather enjoying himself than 
otherwise. He had even begun to appreciate the 
humour of the situation, and was quite sorry when 
the others made a move to the billiard-room. 

He was wondering whether he should follow 
them, when he saw the other clergyman coming 
slowly towards him. 

‘‘ Er — a new arrival, I see,'' said the latter in 
stilted tones. Had you a pleasant journey over 
the Pass ? " 

‘‘ Very, thanks," replied John Smith, feeling more 
uncomfortable than he had ever done in his life 
in meeting a fellow-cleric. 

The fellow-cleric, however, evidently suspected 
nothing. He sat down in a chair, and John Smith 
began to breathe with somewhat of relief as a few 
commonplace observations passed between them. 
Presently the stranger said: 

“ Pardon my asking you, but do you sing? " 

‘‘Why?" asked his victim, in astonishment. 

“We want a few male voices in the choir on 
Sundays, and I promised the Chaplain — who resides 
at another hotel — to ask all newcomers if they 
would care to join." 

“ I am not sure whether I shall be here for 
Sunday," said John Smith evasively. 

“ I see. You must forgive me for intruding. It 
is difficult to get men to come. Unhappily, most 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


39 


of them do not come near the church on Sundays. 
Please pardon me if I have touched any personal 
susceptibilities.” 

He said it in a tone of righteous semi-reproach. 
Then John Smith became really angry. 

“ Thank you,” he remarked chillingly, but as it 
happens, I am in the habit of attending church.” 

He finished his coffee, got up, and walked to the 
other side of the hall. He was beginning to half 
appreciate the youth’s desire to kick. A pair of 
merry brown eyes greeted him. 

‘‘ I’ll tell you what he said ! ” she exclaimed. 

Who?” 

The ‘ Sandy Saint ’ — that’s what we call him. 
I saw him go up and introduce himself. First he 
asked you that conventional question I tried to 
avoid.” 

‘‘About the journey over the Pass? Quite 
right.” 

“ And before you came away he wanted to know 
if you would sing in the choir, and he worked in 
a delicate hint about church attendance.” 

“ He did. Is that his way with newcomers ? ” 

“ Invariably. He has stopped three men to my 
certain knowledge from coming to church. I 
expect, you know, he looked upon you as a soul to 
be saved. Ugh! Talk about a standpoint of con- 
demnation ! ” 


40 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Eleanor, my dear, you really shouldn’t say such 
things,” remarked the old lady mildly. 

I can’t help it, Mrs. Findlay; I warned you I 
should be a handful to you before you brought me 
here.” 

From which John Smith astutely gathered that 
Mrs. Findlay was her chaperon and companion. 

‘‘ Have you a match ? ” the girl went on. 

John Smith instinctively put his hand in his pocket 
and produced his little silver box. Then he no- 
ticed that she held a dainty cigarette in her fingers. 

“ Don’t give her one,” protested Mrs. Findlay. 

I don’t like you to smoke, Eleanor — and in pub- 
lic, too.” 

“ You’d better ask the others not to set me a bad 
example,” replied the girl coolly, and indicating 
with a slight motion of her head quite a dozen 
women who were smoking in the hall. 

John Smith drew back his hand slightly. 

No,” he said, “ I shan’t encourage you — I don’t 
approve, and ” 

Standpoint of condemnation again ! ” laughed 
she. ** The fact of the matter is, ‘ Sandy Saint ’ is 
watching you, and you don’t like to let him see you 
giving me a match.” 

John Smith turned slightly, and saw that the 
man in question was fixing him with his gaze from 
the other side of the hall. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 41 

** Thanks ! ” said the girl, leaning forward, and 
taking the box from his hand before he was aware 
of it. 

** Now he will think more than ever that you have 
a soul to be saved,’' she added, returning him the 
box, and puffing a light whiff. 

John Smith shook his head uncomfortably, and 
walked away. But she only smiled. 

“ Really, dear,” expostulated her chaperon, I 
wish you would have more regard for proprieties. 
The idea of asking a strange man like that for a 
match ! ” 

My dear Mrs. Findlay,” said the girl, as she 
leaned back in her chair and half closed her eyes, 
“ my bargain with you was that you were not to 
interfere with me unless I did something desperately 
wicked. Wait till I do. I asked him for a match 
on purpose to shock him, because I think he’s a 
man who wants educating a little. Otherwise, he’s 
really rather nice.” 

When John Smith went to his room that night 
he found that something else was missing besides 
his clothes, and that was his card-case. But it did 
not trouble him much. He had given his name at 
the hotel as plain Mr. Smith,” and as his cards 
had The Reverend ” on them it was not likely 
he would want any before he returned to Market 
Shapborough. 


42 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


He took another look at the bank-note, 
ril keep it,” he soliloquised, in case I ever 
meet the man again. Then I can give it back to 
the rascal with a piece of my mind.” 


CHAPTER IV 

'' Oh, you must come and be a ‘ Cheshire Cat ’ this 
afternoon! ’’ 

It was a little before lunch, and everybody was 
assembling in the hall. Tobogganists came in, 
padded at elbow, pulling off enormous gloves, un- 
lacing their long white snow gaiters, and clattering 
about in their heavy boots with the bristly steel 
rakes ” on toes ; women with short skirts and 
skates on arm, stamping the snow clods off their 
feet as they entered. A gay, healthy-looking, smil- 
ing set of folk. 

Eleanor Taylor, the girl who had sat next to 
John Smith on the previous evening, had broken 
away suddenly from a little group where an ani- 
mated conversation had been going on. She came 
to where John Smith was standing, in the full glory 
of the check suit, knickers and all. 

You see one of our crew went over Shuttle- 
cock this morning and sprained his ankle,’’ she went 
on, and we must have some one to take his place. 
The ‘ Cheshire Cats ’ hold the record so far.” 

“ My dear young lady,” said the astonished John 

Smith, I am utterly at a loss. What ” 

43 


44 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ Oh, I forgot,” she replied. Of course it’s all 
new to you. I’ll explain. The ‘ Cheshire Cats ’ 
are a bob-crew — ^^every bob has a name, don’t you 
know ? There are five to a bob. And ” 

“ You’ll excuse me, but what is a bob? ” 

She laughed. 

A sleigh — bob-sleigh, you know. Called so be- 
cause we bob when we go down. Mr. Pembury, as 
I told you, unfortunately went over Shuttlecock, 
and ” 

‘‘ Over Shuttlecock ? ” 

Yes — one of the banks on the toboggan run — 
weren’t you watching them this morning? We call 
them * Battledore and Shuttlecock,’ and ' Scylla and 
Charybdis,’ you see. So we’re one short, and you 
must come. You will, won’t you? There’s no one 
else I can think of.” 

“ You want me to go on — on a ‘ bob,’ I think 
you called it ? ” 

‘‘ That’s it. There’s a race this afternoon, 
and 

“ But I really couldn’t. I know nothing about 
it— I ” 

“ Oh, don’t you worry about that. All you have 
to do is to sit tight and ‘ bob ’ when you’re told. 
The brakesman says ‘One, two — hob!'' See? 
And when he says ‘ Leap ! ’ then you lean.” 

“ But I never ” 

“ It’s just perfectly ripping. You go down the 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 45 

Cresta road at terrific speed. You’ll like it aw- 
fully.” 

He expostulated: she persevered. He tried to 
argue: she cajoled him. Finally her enthusiasm 
half prevailed, exciting his inherent instinct for ad- 
venture. He said : “ Well — er — if you really can’t 

get any one else — I might — I — no, I don’t think 
I ” 

‘‘ Yes, you will. Oh, Mr. Pembury,” she cried, 
turning to a youth who was limping across towards 
them, I’ve persuaded Mr.- ?” 

Smith!” 

Thank you. I’ve been talking to Mr. Smith, 
and he wants to take your place this afternoon.” 

“ I never said I wanted to,” ejaculated John 
Smith grimly. 

‘‘ Oh, thanks awfully,” replied Pembury. ‘‘ I 
came a mucker this morning. You’d better wear 
my sweater, hadn’t he. Miss Taylor? ” 

“ Rather ! ” she exclaimed. “ Let’s be in full rig, 
by all means.” 

John Smith began to wonder what he was in 
for now, especially when Pembury said he would 
come to his room after lunch and ‘‘bring him the 
togs.” 

Nevertheless he enjoyed his lunch. The crisp 
morning air had given him an appetite, and he had 
been much interested in watching the tobogganing 
down the Cresta Run. Eleanor Taylor was full of 


46 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


animation, and talked to him in her perfectly nat- 
ural manner. He began to feel a little trepidation 
after the meal, when Pembury came up and said he 
was ready to ‘‘ rig him out.'' 

A little while later he returned into the hall, 
looking anything but an ecclesiastical dignitary. 
Even the check suit was nothing to it. A pair of 
white flannel snow gaiters reached from ankle to 
hip, while his body was enveloped in a white 
sweater, emblazoned upon the front of which was 
an enormous ‘‘ Cheshire Cat," grinning the prover- 
bial grin, and in glaring red. 

He saw the eyes of the sandy-haired clergyman 
fixed upon him from over his paper, somewhat re- 
provingly, he thought, and he returned his look 
with a stare of defiance. Somehow or other it was 
the crabbed face of that fellow-ecclesiastic of his 
that encouraged him most. 

Eleanor Taylor was wearing a sweater with a 
similar device, while another girl and a couple of 
men were clad in the same uniform; together the 
five sauntered out of the hotel. Other “ bob-crews " 
were congregating thickly, with “ swans," ‘‘ bee- 
tles," stars," and other curious badges on sweaters 
and caps. 

Presently John Smith stood among the group at 
the steep start of the run, watching, with some 
nervousness, crew after crew as they seated them- 
selves astride the long, low, narrow '‘bobs," and 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


47 


shot down the run, snicking the electric contact- 
breaker at the top. The cries of “ One — two^ — 
hob!'' from the brakesman at the rear gradually 
grew fainter and fainter as the long course was 
rushed down, and then the starter, with his ear to 
the telephone from the bottom, suddenly yelled out 
the time of the run as signalled from the other end. 

“ Now, then, ‘ Cheshire Cats,' hurry up ! ” 

Miss Taylor seated herself in front, and grasped 
the ropes that pulled the short pair of iron runners 
forming the steering gear. John Smith was in the 
middle, feeling a bit uncomfortable, and a strident- 
voiced youth brought up the rear, the handles of the 
toothed brake in his grasp. 

.. Off!" 

John Smith held his breath as they shot swiftly 
down the sharp, snowed-up and iced incline form- 
ing the start. 

‘‘ One — two — -bob!" yelled the youth at the rear. 

He forgot to bob " forward sharply the first 
time, and the girl behind him struck him in the 
back with her head as she obeyed orders. 

‘‘ Look out, number three 1 Now, then — One — 
two — bob! 

He bobbed with a will now. It was getting ex- 
citing this mad rush down through the pines. 

‘‘ One — two — bob! " 

It wanted doing, that bobbing. It took his breath 
away but he stuck to it manfully. 


48 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Ach-tung ! Ach-tung ! ” 

The long-drawn-out German cry of warning pre- 
ceded them, caught up by the watchers as the 
‘‘ bob ” appeared in sight. 

“ Ach-tung ! shrieked Eleanor Taylor, as they 
approached a banked-up curve. The course must 
be kept clear, at all risks. 

‘‘Look out!’' cried the brakesman as they took 
the corner. ^^Lean!’* 

John Smith nearly lost his balance as he threw 
himself over to the right. But the. “bob” took it 
beautifully, and came round to the straight again 
with an exquisite bit of steering on the part of Miss 
Taylor. 

“ Bravo, Cats! ” cried the bystanders, while John 
Smith heard one fellow shout: 

“ By George, number three’s giving ’em weight ! ” 

“One — ^two — bob!'' The youth yelled louder 
and louder. 

“ Ach-tung ! Ach-tung ! ! ” 

The famous “ horse-shoe ” corner, a curve of the 
sharpest. 

“ Brake ! ” cried the steers-woman, as they rushed 
up and round the great curving snow-bank. 

Lean!" shrieked the brakesman. 

A slowing down, a mighty leaning to the left, a 
blurred visjon of a crowd of eager spectators. 

“ Oh, well steered. Cats ! Well done. Cats ! ” 

“Now, then — One — two — bob!" 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


49 


Pretty easy work now to the end of the run, 
where the electric contact-breaker was snicked and 
the crew jumped off, waiting to hear their ‘‘ time.” 

At length all the “ bobs ” arrived at the foot of 
the run, and the jingle of. bells was heard coming 
down, as a long row of horse-sleighs descended to 
drag up the heavy ‘‘ bobs,” their crews, meanwhile, 
walking to the top again. The race consisted of 
three runs, and John Smith was actually looking 
forward to the next. He was red in the face with 
his frantic bobbing,” and he puffed at his breath 
as he toiled up once more. He was quite excited, 
talking gaily with the rest of the crew, good- 
naturedly taking hints as to the art of the sport. 
He could hardly realise that he was really the Rev- 
erend John Smith, Canon-elect of Frattenbury 
Cathedral. His mind had gone back to his old 
College days — to the football field and the river, 
to that memorable quarter-mile handicap, and the 
cup which rested somewhere on a shelf in his 
Vicarage. It was with an almost boyish delight 
that he took his place once more on the bob ” and 
the madly-exhilarating rush through the air began. 
It was with the most intense eagerness that he 
heard the verdict: 

“ Three, eighteen, two.” 

Three minutes, eighteen seconds, and two-fifths! 
Hurrah! They stood well to win the handicap on 
the third run. It reminded him of bumping. His 


50 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


boat had been head of the river at Oxford when 
he was bow. What a lot he had forgotten since, 
to be sure! On his way up he met his travelling 
companion of the previous day. 

‘‘ You’re taking kindly to it,” said the youth, with 
a smile. “ Prime sport, isn’t it ? ” 

‘‘Rather!” exclaimed John Smith in a glow of 
excitement, and passed on; whereupon the youth 
said to a friend : 

“ I came over the Pass with that Johnny yes- 
terday. Not a bad sort, but a bit stiff. Getting 
it taken out of him pretty soon, though.” 

The third course had commenced. The 
“ Cheshire Cats ” took the first corner very pret- 
tily, and then rushed down the straight for the 
“ horse-shoe.” 

“ Ach-tung ! ” “ Brake ! ” “ Lean !— look out! ” 

Just a failure to pull the steering-cord at the 
right moment, a little too high up the bank — and 
then 

The next moment John Smith was floundering 
on his back in the snow with another of the crew 
on the top of him, while the “ bob ” had turned 
half over. 

A roar of laughter; the eager pointing and snap- 
ping of cameras by those who possessed them, and 
cries of — 

“ Oh, hard lines 1 ” 

“ Lost it this time ! ” 


“ Never mind, Cats ! ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


51 


John Smith picked himself up from his undigni- 
fied position, catching Miss Taylor's face as he did 
so, and returning her smile with a laugh. 

‘‘ I'm very sorry," he exclaimed ; ‘‘ I hope it 
wasn't my fault?" 

“Not a bit," she replied, brushing the snow off • 
her skirt; “I ought to have steered better. Never 
mind, better luck next time." 

Pembury greeted them at the hotel when they 
returned, eager to hear how they had fared. Elea- 
nor Taylor asked all the “ crew " to tea in a cosy 
corner of the hall, and a very lively half-hour fol- 
lowed. 

“ How did you get on? " asked Pembury of John 
Smith. 

“ Capitally," answered Miss Taylor for him. 

“ Didn't he ? " she enquired of the brakesman. 

“First-rate," said that youth; “tumbled to it at 
once." 

“Tumbled oif it, too," said Eleanor, “but that 
was my fault. Now, wasn't I right in saying it 
was ripping sport?" she went on, with an arch 
look at John Smith. 

“ I enjoyed it immensely," he said, and forth- 
with began to speak enthusiastically on the sport. 
They were a very merry party at that particular 
little table, and John Smith presently noticed that 
the stern-looking cleric, who was sitting alone dose 
by, over his tea, was regarding their merriment 


52 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


with his peculiar cold, grey eyes, and that the sem- 
blance of a superior sneer was playing round his 
mouth. 

For the life of him he could not understand it, 
but he began to take a strong aversion to this man. 
As he went to his room to dress for dinner he 
reasoned with himself that under any other cir- 
cumstances this would have been the very man with 
whom he would have consorted. They would have 
discussed the latest ecclesiastical appointments, have 
deplored the signs of the spiritual decadence of 
the age, have mourned over the covert attacks con- 
tained in the last book of some scientific savant — oh 
yes, he knew well the kind of subjects that would 
have been the groundwork of their conversation. 

But, as it was, he felt instinctively that the man 
was regarding him, as Eleanor Taylor had put it, 
‘‘ a soul to be saved.’' He resented it. He smiled 
as he thought what might have been the effect if 
he had been able to put on a clerical collar and 
announce himself to the stranger as ‘‘ the Canon- 
elect of Frattenbury,” and he rather rejoiced in his 
present position. 

‘‘ Perhaps I’m learning something after all,” he 
admitted, “ and I’m certainly doing no harm — and 
— and — well, I did enjoy ‘ bobbing ’ — I can’t deny 
it.” 

The cleric aforesaid annoyed him still further that 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


53 


evening. He came into the smoking-room where 
a group of men were lounging, and accosted John 
Smith in somewhat of a patronising tone, and with 
a decided mannerism of rebuke. 

Ah/’ he said, I see you have fallen a victim 
to the sporting proclivities of the place.” 

‘‘ Well, yes,” replied Smith, with unusual short- 
ness, “ I suppose I have. It’s rather natural.” 

I sometimes think,” went on the other, that 
there is a little too much of it here. It is sad — at 
least to me — to see people thinking of nothing else 
— giving up all their time to amusement; don’t you 
think so ? ” 

Forty-eight hours sooner John Smith might have 
agreed. But now such a question rubbed him the 
wrong way. 

‘‘ After all,” he replied, ‘‘ it’s a very innocent 
form of amusement. What harm is there in it?” 

Oh, I meant nothing personal,” exclaimed the 
stranger, apparently noticing the effect of his ques- 
tion, only so many never seem to take life seri- 
ously. You, of course, are older, and ” 

“ Yes,” interrupted John Smith, who was some- 
times noted for severity of speech in his parish, and 
who was growing really angry, “ I am old enough 
to know that there is not very much harm in in- 
dulging in a little recreation after some months of 
fairly active work in — in — business.” And he 


54 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


turned on his heel. The other man left the smok- 
ing-room the next moment. 

** Devilish cheek, sir ! ” said a man, standing near, 
who had overheard it ; ‘‘I wonder you stood it so 
well. I should have felt inclined to have punched 
his head — but, after all, he's only a parson, and 
knows no better. Jolly good thing they’re not all 
like that.” 

Then the conversation became general. John 
Smith was a listener, more than a talker. He en- 
joyed hearing this free, untrammelled speech, and 
he was honestly trying to make the most of it and 
learn. Now and then something jarred upon him, 
but he never winced — even when he heard ecclesi- 
astical matters touched on once, in a way that he 
had certainly never done before. 

There was one remark, uttered casually by an ap- 
parently thoughtless youth, that rang through his 
mind as he retired for the night: 

‘‘If only parsons would be a bit more social, and 
try and help the people in social things, what a jolly 
lot more influence they’d have ! ” 


CHAPTER V 


John Smith had broken loose from the trammels 
of ecclesiastical conventionality with a vengeance. 
For several days he had been at St. Moritz, thor- 
oughly enjoying himself in spite of little whis- 
pered exhortations addressed by a conscience still 
robed in cassock and collar. He even clothed him- 
self in the terrible check suit with quiet nonchalance, 
or fared forth as a ** Cheshire Cat ’’ quite at his 
ease, while he consumed his cigar in the smoking- 
room with a natural air, and could look towards the 

Sandy Saint '' with a stony indifference. Bob- 
bing ’’ was becoming a delight to him, and he had 
also procured a pair of skates, and cautiously circled 
round the ice-rink on the inside edge a whole morn- 
ing. 

Three or four days had wrought a marvellous 
change in the man, albeit he held uncomfortable 
converse at times with the aforenamed conscience, 
especially when he remembered his newly-acquired 
dignity and bethought him of the verger awaiting 
him at Frattenbury with a silver poker. 

But his sense of humour and adventure bore him 
through, and he was honest enough to acknowledge 
55 


56 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


to himself that he was really learning a lesson in 
humanity. Already he had made several mental 
resolutions. He thought of some of the men of his 
own parish at home, whom he had never known 
socially, and whom he had treated rather coldly as 
not good churchmen.^^ He determined to adopt 
a different attitude towards them. He remembered 
sundry disputes that had arisen at home, and began 
to understand that perhaps the layman’s side of 
questions was worth looking into, and that he, as 
Vicar, was not invariably infallible by virtue, of 
divine right — especially when there had been room 
for divine toleration. 

In short, John Smith was fast making up for the 
years of ecclesiastical environment, and was gaining 
something of that inner knowledge of his fellow- 
beings which cannot be reached by the priest, but 
only by the man. 

Eleanor Taylor was interested in him, delighting 
to draw him out, not only from the spirit of mis- 
chief which was natural to her, but because she felt 
he was really worth it as a character study. And 
he thoroughly enjoyed her frank, unconventional 
attitude, looking forward to lunch and dinner with 
a sense of satisfying something more than the ap- 
petite occasioned by the crisp mountain air. 

They were at the dinner-table on the fourth even- 
ing after his arrival. 

Well, yes,” he was saying, “ I confess I 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


57 


have enjoyed my stay better than I thought I 
should.” 

“ The first evening you were here you spoke of 
departing on the next day.” 

So I did I And how I wish I could stay longer. 
But I shall have to be off early next week.” 

‘‘ You are going back to England — to work? ” 

There was just a shade of curiosity in her voice. 

‘‘ Yes,” he answered, rather hurriedly, my holi- 
day draws to an end. And you — when do you re- 
turn?” 

“ Not before the end of March — and then for the 
daily round and common tasks of conventional life 
once more. It will be dull after St. Moritz.” 

‘‘You live in a quiet neighbourhood?” 

“ I told you the other night I’d been brought up 
in the atmosphere of eternal unchange and con- 
servatism. Yes, we are overburdened at home with 
stolid fossils and the odour of respectable sanctity 
— we live under the veil of respectability.” 

“ I suppose,” he hazarded, “ it is your somewhat 
advanced views that make you chafe under it?” 

“ Perhaps. I told you I shocked my father. He 
is Mayor of our city for this year, and that makes 
him worse than ever. Even I dare hardly chaff 
him now.” 

“ Do you disagree with him in the municipal 
policy?” asked John Smith, with a laugh. 

“Of course I do,” she replied. “ Our municipal 


58 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


policy is to keep everything back and to ignore all 
improvements or Social Reform. It’s partly the 
fault of the clergy.” 

‘‘ The clergy ? ” 

‘‘ Yes. We are a Cathedral Town, you know,” 
she said, turning her eyes full on him. 

John Smith started inwardly. For the life of 
him he dared make no remarks on the subject. The 
vision of the silver poker glared before his mind, 
and he poured out a glass of wine silently. 

“ Perhaps you don’t know what that means ? ” 
she went on unconsciously. ‘‘ It means the dead- 
ening influence of the Close and its narrow-visioned 
clique. It pervades the whole place — it stops all 
effort — it pours the lukewarm water of respectabil- 
ity on all poor little fires of progress or enthusiasm, 
and, you know, lukewarm water extinguishes a fire 
as surely as cold water. I know what I should like 
to do.” 

“What?” he asked uncomfortably. 

“ Oh, it’s sacrilegious, I suppose — ^why, set up 
an image of that mysterious entity called ‘ The 
Thing,’ and a group of the Dean and Chapter, the 
holy spinsters and the town magnates bowing down 
before it.” 

He crumbled his bread uneasily. 

“ You seem to have a very poor opinion of your 
ecclesiastical dignitaries,” he said. 

“ I have, indeed. And so would you if you had 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 59 

to live among them and put up with their non- 
sense.” 

As, for instance ?” 

Oh, I could give you many instances. For 
example — ah ! here are the letters ! ” 

A waiter entered at that moment with a tray 
laden with letters. The post had been late that 
evening, owing to a fall of snow the other side of 
the Julier Pass, so the conversation was abruptly 
broken off. 

There was nothing for John Smith among the 
budget. His Zurich address was the last he had 
left in England, and, on his arrival at St. Moritz in 
his perturbed state of mind, he had written to 
Zurich and ordered all letters to be sent back to his 
Vicarage at home. 

So he sat, eating his compote silently, but with 
a sinister feeling of some overhanging catastrophe 
taking possession of him. The conversation about 
the Cathedral City and the ecclesiastical dignitaries 
had strangely unmanned him. His conscience, hav- 
ing put on a bigger collar than ever, was shouting 
at his very soul with a speaking-trumpet. The 
verger with the silver poker had assumed a terrific 
aspect. 

Suddenly he gave a start, and turned as pale as 
the table-cloth before him. Eleanor Taylor was 
reading extracts from her letters to her elderly com- 
panion. 


60 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


I’ve heard from father. He says the vacant 
canonry at Frattenbury has been filled up — another 
fossil, apparently. I’ll read it.” 

And John Smith, stiff and motionless, found him- 
self condemned to listen to the following: — 

“ Our vacant canonry has been offered to Mr. 
Smith, the Vicar of Market Shapborough. I hear he 
is an excellent man for the post, extremely orthodox, 
of a good family — in spite of his name — and not at all 
likely to upset any of our Cathedral traditions, or to 
fall foul of the rest of the Chapter. The Dean, I am 
told, is delighted with the appointment. You know 
how keenly he values the harmony which prevails 
in the Close, and which will remain undisturbed. 
Mr. Smith will, I believe, come into residence in 
April.’’ 

The blood almost froze in John Smith’s veins. 
He gulped down a glass of wine, and stole a quick 
glance at his companion. She was too much en- 
grossed in her correspondence to notice him. A 
slight feeling of relief came into his mind. If she 
had had any suspicions he would have seen it. 
He was never more devoutly thankful for his an- 
cestral name than at that moment. 

He sat on, in dire reverie, in agonised suspense. 
The situation was critical, and he had not the 
courage either to brave it or to declare himself. 
He felt that if she took up the conversation where 
it had dropped he would betray his secret. And 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


61 


then — what could he do? He could never face the 
consequences in Frattenbury, and he was ashamed 
to throw himself upon her mercy and crave her 
silence. 

From which it will be noted that conscience was 
at its favourite little game, to wit, holding a mag- 
nifying-glass over a blunder — turning a tiny drop 
of innocent water into a globe with horrid monsters 
in it. 

But she did not take up the conversation. She 
went on reading her letters, and chatting about 
them to her companion, till the ladies began to 
move. Then she rose, and, with a little bow to 
John Smith, passed out of the room. 

He sat, wrapt in gloom. Then his eye caught 
sight of an envelope she had left on the table — 
empty. He reached for it, and read the fatal word 
‘‘Frattenbury” on the postmark. He groaned 
aloud. 

Then a resolution, the resolution of a coward, 
took possession of him. Rising from the table he 
went straight to the hotel office, where the secretary 
was busily making up the accounts of the evening. 

“ What time does the diligence leave in the morn- 
ing?” he asked, in the tone of voice a haunted 
criminal, escaping from justice, might be expected 
to assume. 

“ Where does Monsieur wish to go to ? ” en- 
quired the polite functionary. 


62 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


‘‘ Oh, anywhere — that is, I wish to return to 
.England; I am leaving to-morrow/’ 

“ There is a diligence for the Maloja at eight in 
the morning, if Monsieur wishes to travel by that 
route — or perhaps he would like to go via Thusis.” 

Not Thusis — certainly not Thusis,” replied the 
Canon-elect, with a lively recollection of that place ; 
the Maloja will do.” 

It is a fine drive,” remarked the secretary ; 
but perhaps the hour is too early for Monsieur. 
An extra post might be better ? ” 

Can I have an extra post at any hour? ” asked 
John Smith anxiously. He remembered that Elea- 
nor Taylor had mentioned she was coming down 
to breakfast early. 

But certainly. Monsieur ! ” 

“ Then order it for seven o’clock — and let me 
have my bill to-night — in my room — send it up — 
do you understand ? ” 

“ It shall be done. Monsieur,” replied the imper- 
turbable secretary, making a note of it, with a slight 
shrug of his shoulders to express his innermost 
view of the eccentricity of the Englishman in gen- 
eral. 

And so it came to pass that at an early hour the 
following morning John Smith was gliding down 
the glorious Maloja Pass in a solitary sleigh. But 
little heed did he take of the scenery, nor did he 
stop, when once he had commenced that homeward 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


6S 


journey, more than he could help, until he arrived 
at his Vicarage, well muffled up in his great-coat. 
Then did he clothe himself in ecclesiastical garb 
once more and lock up the garments that had been 
foisted upon him at Thusis — ^putting them out of 
sight with a grim smile of satisfaction. 


CHAPTER VI 


St. Roger's Gate, Frattenbury, is the entrance 
from the quiet and staid South Street into the still 
more quiet and staid precincts of the Close. You 
pass through the solid stone archway into an at- 
mosphere of unbroken rest and repose. Straight 
on, at the further end of the narrow street, is the 
entrance to the Bishop’s palace; on your left, stand- 
ing in fair gardens, are the mansions in which the 
Dean, the Archdeacon, and the Canons in Residence 
live in a majestic calm; on your right, there comes 
first St. Roger’s Walk, with its creeper-covered 
houses, leading to the cloisters, a quaint, paved 
pathway — ^presumably the favourite strolling- 
ground of the aforesaid Saint, who was Bishop of 
Frattenbury in the fourteenth century. 

Leaving his retreat on your right you pass on, 
by sundry small houses, until another paved path- 
way leads you to a different part of the cloisters. 
Here you may see the Dean, or one of the Canons, 
proceeding in state from his house to the Cathedral, 
his verger with the silver wand gravely walking be- 
fore him. 

The various houses in the Close are by no means 
entirely occupied by the Cathedral clergy, though 
64 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


65 


some of the smaller ones in St. Roger’s Walk are 
the houses of the Minor Canons — small fry who do 
most of the work in the services, but are not allowed 
to preach excepting at rare intervals — small fry who 
are useful in handing round tea at the Dean’s after- 
noon functions, and who are in other ways equally 
necessary to Cathedral traditions. 

The other houses are chiefly occupied by widows 
and spinsters. Not ordinary widows or spinsters, 
mind you — not the widows of worldly mind who, to 
quote the Apostle, “ wax wanton,” or the spinsters 
who degrade themselves with golf or bicycles and 
other pomps and vanities of the world, but widows 
and spinsters who are in every way fit and eligible 
for the sphere of the Close, who can say, “ my 
husband, the late Canon,” or poor dear father, 
we were only reading one of his beautiful sermons 
last night — a volume of them was printed after he 
died,” — widows and spinsters who have missionary 
boxes conspicuously displayed on the hall table, who 
attend the daily services with unflinching regu- 
larity, who are never absent from the Bible Class 
of the ''dear Dean,” and who are, in fact, insepa- 
rable from the life (or shall we say, existence?) 
of the Close of a Cathedral City. 

Such were the three Miss Millingtons, spinsters 
of uncertain age and certain income, living in one 
of the houses almost opposite to that occupied by 
the Canon in Residence. 


66 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


On the particular afternoon in April in which 
this chapter opens, the three ladies in question were 
seated in their prim drawing-room in great com- 
plaisance. Set out on the table was the best china 
tea-service with the pale blue pattern and gold edg- 
ing. A stand contained various trays of minute 
pieces of bread and butter, tiny squares of cake, and 
that strange assortment of sweetmeats so indis- 
pensable to the English afternoon function, and yet 
so sparingly partaken of. 

Rose Millington, the eldest of the trio, sat by the 
tea-table surveying the arrangements with quiet sat- 
isfaction. Her sister Bella, the second of the three, 
was seated at a small davenport, writing a letter, 
while Daisy, the youngest, was putting the finishing 
touch to some vases of flowers. 

There ! ” she exclaimed. ‘‘ Now, everything 
looks very nice, doesn’t it?” 

Quite nice, dear,” replied her sister, ‘‘ except, 
perhaps, that vase is a little too near the edge. 
Yes, that's better! Whatever makes Janey so 
late?” 

There being no answer to this question. Miss Mil- 
lington went on in an undertone. 

“ She has no idea of time, has Janey.” 

It was characteristic of the eldest Miss Millington 
to ask questions at the end of sentences and to re- 
ply to them herself, under her breath. 

What’s Lady Cunningham’s address ? ” asked 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


67 


Bella sharply, as she poised her pen over an undi- 
rected envelope. 

‘‘ Stone Court,’' replied Daisy. 

No, dear,” corrected Miss Millington, Stone 
Grange, What are you writing to her about ? ” 

“ Daisy’s right, it’s Stone Court” snapped Bella. 

“ I suppose it’s about William Bubb, he ” be- 

gan Miss Millington, sotto voce. Then, aloud : 

Daisy is wrong, Bella.” 

Can’t help it. I’ve written it now,” said Bella 
while Daisy, from long experience, kept silence. 

■ ‘‘ Yes,” went on Bella, “ it’s about William Bubb. 
He’s gone there as footman, and it’s a pity he should 
drop out of St. Roger’s Guild. I hope she’ll let 
him come.” 

The ‘‘ Guild of St. Roger for Men-servants ” 
was the pet hobby of the two elder Miss Milling- 
tons, as many who kept those commodities in Frat- 
tenbury realised- — to their secret annoyance. But 
then the Dean was the President ! 

Yes, indeed,” said Miss Millington; “it would 
be a pity to lose him. By the way, I wonder 
whether Canon Smith will help us with the Guild? 
I expect the Dean has told him about it. And ” 

At this moment the door opened and a girl of 
about two or three-and-twenty, wearing a short 
cycling skirt, came into the room. 

“No one come yet, I suppose, aunties mine?” 
she said quietly, pulling off her gloves. 


68 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


My dear Jane,” ejaculated Miss Millington, 
“ we were wondering what had become of you. I 
wish you would remember the time better. How 
can you change your dress in all this hurry ? ” 

Jane looked carefully at the clock. 

It wants five minutes to the half-hour — there is 
plenty of time,” she replied. 

‘‘There is not plenty of time!” snapped Bella. 
“ You should have a little more thought, dear. 
You owe it to us — and to our guests as well.” 

“ You shouldn’t ride so far, Janey,” murmured 
Daisy, intent upon getting in an appropriate re- 
mark. 

In reply, Jane Rutland kissed all three aunts, 
commencing with the eldest, took off her hat, and 
said: 

“ Perhaps I’d better not change at all, if there 
isn’t time.” 

This evolved three little shrieks of consternation. 

“ Go and take off that dreadful skirt at once, 
Janey, before any one comes,” said Bella. 

“ Well, if you’d really rather I did ” said 

Janey, rising and going towards the door, much to 
the relief of the three spinsters. 

“Dear, dear! when will Janey learn ordinary 
proprieties ? ” asked Miss Millington, adding*, in her 
undertone : “ She never will — she never will. 

She’s hopeless.” 

“ Horrid bicycles ! ” muttered Bella. Then a ring 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


69 


and a knock came at the door, and the three sisters 
stijffened themselves yet more to receive guests. 

An eminently respectable man-servant opened the 
door, and announced in a good clerical monotone — 
caught from Cathedral association: 

‘‘ Mrs. Sylvester.” 

Mrs. Sylvester, a widow with an eternal smile, 
affectionately enquired after the sister’s healths, re- 
joicing to know that the cold winds of early spring 
had not materially affected them. 

And have you made the acquaintance of the 
new Canon yet ? ” asked Mrs. Sylvester presently. 

‘‘ Yes, we have,” replied Miss Millington. “We 
met him at the Dean’s on Tuesday. Do you know 
him?” 

“ Only by sight.” 

“ He’s coming here to-day,” said Bella. 

“ Indeed ! ” said Mrs. Sylvester sweetly. “ And 
what do you think of him? ” 

“ He seems an exceedingly nice man,” ventured 
Daisy. 

“ Daisy, dear ! ” exclaimed Miss Millington in a 
tone of mild rebuke, “we’ve only seen him once. 
We hope he’s nice.” 

Mrs. Sylvester smiled with increased sweetness. 

“ He must find the house very large,” she re- 
marked. “ Canon Gregory often said there was too 
much room, and he had a wife and family. Has 
he any relatives living with him? ” 


70 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


‘‘ No/' said Bella, none that weVe heard of.” 

“ Quite alone ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Sylvester, rais- 
ing her eyebrows sympathetically. 

One or two more guests were now shown in, 
and the conversation became general. Jane, having 
completed her toilette, came in, and then the solemn 
man-servant announced: 

“ The Reverend Canon Smith.” 

He was faultlessly attired in, clerical garb. A 
slight change had taken place since he left St. 
Moritz. He had shaved off his little mutton-chop 
whiskers. It was an event that had been brought 
about by just a touch of cowardice of which he was 
half ashamed. He had thought that perhaps it 
might alter him just a little, in case he ever came 
across any of the witnesses of the check suit es- 
capade. 

Miss Millington rose to receive him affably. Tea 
was served, and the butler allotted the services of 
a Minor Canon to assist in the distribution thereof. 

Very soon Canon Smith was being initiated into 
the mysterious working of the Guild of St. 
Roger.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Millington, we started it 
about two years ago. Of course the Dean helped 
us, he’s so good. We could never have done it by 
ourselves. Wq do hope you’ll be interested in it. 
Canon Gregory was very kind. He addressed our 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


71 


last meeting. Don’t you think it’s an excellent 
work? — Of course you do.” 

‘‘ Oh, very excellent, I have no doubt.” 

‘‘You see, men-servants are a class apart. They 
can’t associate with tradesmen or others. And 
nothing is ever done for them.” 

“ Too much left to themselves,” put in Bella, 
who was getting bored with the Minor Canon’s 
wife. “ There are guilds for all sorts of other 
people, and so we said, why not get the men-serv- 
ants of the place together? Something ought to be 
done for them.” 

“ How very true! ” said the Minor Canon’s wife. 

“ It has not been easy work,” said Miss Milling- 
ton. “ So many of the people are thoughtless, and 
it is difficult to get them to take an interest in the 
spiritual welfare of those they employ. Isn’t it sad 
to meet with indifference?” 

“ But you have succeeded splendidly,” remarked 
the Minor Canon’s wife. 

“ Sad — sad — oh, most sad ! ” murmured Miss 
Millington in answer to her own enquiry, while 
Bella said : 

“ Yes — we have succeeded. We have a nucleus.” 

“ And where do you hold your meetings ? ” asked 
the Canon. 

“ In our drawing-room,” replied Miss Millington 
■ — “ once a month. It is sometimes a little awk- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


72 

ward, of course, but we feel it is a good work. Let 
me give you another cup of tea, Mrs. Sylvester.” 

‘‘ I always say they would be much more at home 
in the kitchen — with the maids,” said a quiet voice 
at the Canon’s elbow; ‘Mon’t you think so?” 

He turned, to find himself confronted by Jane, 
who was slowly stirring her tea and looking at him 
with her deep grey eyes. 

An involuntary smile played round his lips for a 
moment. She was quick to observe it. 

“ Perhaps they would be more in their element,” 
he admitted. 

“ You mustn’t tell my aunts that — but I’m glad 
you agree with me. I’m sorry for the poor men.” 

But I understand they come” he said. 

‘‘ Because they’re sent. I hope you’ll remember 
that if you address them, and not be hard on them.” 

She handed him her cup to pass. Her aunts had 
not heard this scrap of conversation in the general 
buzz. At that moment the door was opened, and 
a late guest shown in. 

Miss Taylor ! ” 

Canon Smith put down the cup on the table and 
moved slightly into the background. The moment 
that had been haunting him for weeks past had 
come, and come suddenly and unexpectedly. He 
knew that, sooner or later, he would be sure to meet 
Miss Taylor. He did not know whether she would 
recognise him when the meeting took place. Over 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 73 

and over again, in his calmer moments, had he 
blamed himself for his precipitous flight from St. 
Moritz, acknowledging that the wisest course would 
have been to frankly admit his personality. After 
all, he had not been guilty of a crime, and he was 
not the first clergyman who had arrayed himself in 

mufti ” for a holiday. And — all said and done 
— he had not only enjoyed the experience, but he 
had learned much. 

Of course he saw that his sudden flight had only 
made it the harder for him. If Miss Taylor recog- 
nised in the Canon in Residence the enthusiastic 
“ Cheshire Cat,” and chose to tell the story of his 
running away at the possibility of discovery, things 
would not go very smoothly with him at Fratten- 
bury. 

So he had carefully weighed the situation, and 
had come to a conclusion that was not so wise as 
it might have been, to wit, that honesty is the best 
policy, provided it is necessary to be honest ” — a 
strangely roundabout way of putting things, but a 
way that we often have with us. 

In his case the “ necessity ” was based on the 
chance of a recognition on the part of Eleanor 
Taylor. If she did not recognise him, he argued, 
weakly enough perhaps, that it was not worth while 
to refer to the subject at all — which, of course, 
shows that he secretly hoped she would not recog- 
nise him. 


74 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


She shook hands with the Miss Millingtons, 
bowed to one or two friends, and took her seat in 
a part of the room at a little distance from John 
Smith, where she was waited on by the Minor 
Canon, who in his turn was rather sharply watched 
by his wife. For Eleanor Taylor was not exactly 
of the ‘‘ Close set’’ Also, she was attractive. 

All persons possessing the latter qualification and 
lacking the first were in danger of the judgment — 
of the Close. 

And the judgment of the Close was sweetly 
tempered with orthodoxy and hell fire. 

She fingered a tiny square of cake, answered the 
uninteresting remarks of the Minor Canon, and then, 
her eyes wandering round the room, fell on the 
profile of John Smith. 

She knitted her brows slightly with a puzzled air, 
A wave of recollection swept over her. She looked 
at him steadily. A little trick, a gesture of his arm, 
completed the recognition. 

Instantly she turned her face towards the Minor 
Canon. He had just made some inane remark 
intended to be smart, and he thought the sparkle 
in her eyes and the smile that twitched her lips 
was the reward of his wit. 

The Minor Canon’s wife noted the smile too, and 
called to her spouse to put her cup down for her. 

Five minutes later, and Eleanor Taylor was form- 
ally introduced to the Canon in Residence. Be- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 75 

fore this he had caught her eye, and taken cour- 
age from its utter blankness of expression. 

She looked him straight in the face without the 
quiver of a muscle, and his heart sang jubilate. 
He little knew that she was only putting him to 
the test. 

‘‘ And how do you like Frattenbury? ” 

Very much, thanks.’^ 

Of course you knew it before? ” 

Only slightly. My parish is quite on the out- 
skirts of the diocese.” 

‘'It is a delightful time to come; we are famous 
for our gardens in Frattenbury, and they will soon 
be looking beautiful.” 

“ I suppose so.” 

“ I have been looking forward to the spring so 
much. I have been spending the winter abroad, 
and one always longs for home in that case.” 

“ Yes.” 

The ordinary remark would have been to ask her 
where she had spent the winter. The monosyllable 
was all he dared to venture. 

But she never, by the slightest sign, betrayed how 
much she knew and her amusement at his discom- 
fiture — for such it was. 

Later on, when she was alone, she laughed softly 
to herself over the situation, soliloquising: 

“ Poor Canon Smith ! How very relieved he was 
when he thought I hadn’t recognised him ! So that 


76 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


is why he ran away. He must have heard me read- 
ing that extract about him from father’s letter. It’s 
too funny! I wish he’d have been a little more 
honest about it, but I suppose he’s fearfully afraid 
of the story leaking out among those Close fogies ! 
I sympathise with him most heartily. 

Oh, if they could have seen him bobbing! What 
a scandal for a Cathedral dignitary ! I can imagine 
those Millington women discussing it. And his 
check suit! He’s not really a bad sort — and — 
well, he showed to more advantage at St. Moritz 
than here. At any rate, I shall not give him away.” 

When the Canon in Residence left the Miss 
Millingtons it was with a feeling of the profoundest 
joy. She had not recognised him! He took his 
hat and stick from the sombre butler, absently tilted 
the former rather far back on his head, and as he 
walked through the Close to his Residence he swung 
his stick round and round. 

He was lost in satisfaction. A load was lifted 
from his mind. He stepped out buoyantly, and 
even fell to humming a tune. 

And at the corner he passed within a couple of 
yards of the Dean without even seeing him. 

That stately functionary stood quite still, lifted 
his folding glasses solemnly to his nose, and stared 
fixedly at John Smith as the latter passed on, hum- 
ming, unconsciously, his gay tune louder than ever, 
and swinging his stick with increasing rapidity. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


77 


Dear me ! ” said the Dean. ‘‘ Dear me ! 

He lowered his glasses, wiped them, turned, and 
passed on his way majestically. 

And again he said, in a tone of Decanal wonder : 
Dear me!” 


CHAPTER VII 


If you had been coming from paying a call upon 
the Bishop, or one of his satellites, and had left 
the sacred precincts of the Close by St. Roger’s 
Gate, and had crossed the South Street outside, 
turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, 
you would have found yourself at a small, old- 
fashioned shop, with the legend, ‘‘ Thomas Rice, 
Licensed Dealer in Tobacco and Snuff,” inscribed 
over the door. 

Entering the said door you would have probably 
found the said Thomas Rice straight in front of 
you, in his favourite attitude, seated behind his 
counter, his elbows on the latter, and his chin rest- 
ing in his hands, an old straw hat on his head, 
and a cigar, as often as not half smoked and gone 
out, sticking from under his bristling, grey mous- 
tache. 

Understand, however, that if you had been an 
inhabitant of the Close — from the Bishop down to 
the junior Priest Vicar or Minor Canon — you 
would certainly have turned aside either to the 
right hand or to the left on emerging into the 
South Street. By no means would you have en- 
78 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


79 


tered the sanctum of the said Thomas Rice, not 
necessarily because you were a non-smoker, but 
because the individual in question was Tabooed ” 
by the Close. 

We smile at the poor ignorant heathen of Central 
Africa and his superstition in avoiding all that has 
been declared to be “ Fetish under penalties of 
the savage Powers that be; yet, without question- 
ing, the adherents of Christian Powers that were 
in Frattenbury accepted the equally mysterious 
verdict that such a person or such a thing was 

Taboo.” 

They used to call it ‘‘ Anathema ” in St. Paul’s 
time, and down to the Reformation. The Reforma- 
tion, however, abolished so nasty a word from 
practical usage. 

But that was all the Reformation did in the 
matter. 

The reason why Thomas Rice was placed outside 
the pale of respectability — which was the boundary 
limit of Cathedral Christianity — was twofold: he 
was a Freethinker and a Radical. It would be diffi- 
cult to say which was the more terrible term of 
the two. If, on the one hand, he was an offender 
against Ecclesiastical Creeds, on the other he was 
an offender against Ecclesiastical Practices, as set 
forth by the clergy of the Close, who were, to a 
man, orthodox Conservatives. 

Irony had decreed that his shop should be exactly 


80 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


opposite St. Roger’s Gate, and he made the most 
of this decree of Irony. It delighted him to place 
in his window some glaring announcement of a 
“ Speech on Disestablishment/’ or a lecture on “ The 
Mistakes of the Bible,” and he keenly enjoyed, from 
his vantage point, watching the face of the Dean 
when that dignitary’s eye caught such a notice, as 
he solemnly came forth from the Close. 

On the particular occasion upon which this chapter 
opens, such a placard hung in his window, on which 
were conspicuous the words — “ Ratepayers’ Associa- 
tion,” “ Sanitary Reform.” 

He had only just affixed this notice and had gone 
back to his position behind the counter. An in- 
dividual who, to judge from a roll of similar pla- 
cards in his hand, had brought him the announce- 
ment, was half seated on this counter, tranquilly 
enjoying a cigarette. He was a large-built man 
of about forty, with a fresh-coloured, clean-shaven 
face. It would have been difficult to say, at a 
glance, what he was. He might have passed for a 
farmer or horse-dealer, and yet there was just a 
touch of something aristocratic about him that 
seemed a little out of place with such avocations. 

“ Hullo,” said the tobacconist, as he gazed through 
his glass door, “ here comes the latest addition to 
the Rookery. What’s he like? Same as the rest 
of ’em? ” 

The other followed his gaze and saw Canon Smith 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


81 


coming down the Close on the other side of St. 
Roger’s Gate. 

“ Don’t know,” he answered ; “ I don’t dislike his 
face, somehow.” 

‘‘Oh, humbug!” sneered Rice; “they’re all 
touched with the same brush. Not a man among 
’em. I say, though, he don’t know his way about 
yet, eh? ” 

For Canon Smith had now passed through the 
gateway and was making straight for the tobac- 
conist’s shop. 

“ I believe he’s coming in,” said the man with 
the cigarette. 

Rice swore beneath his breath. 

“ It’ll be the first parson I’ve had in for five 
years,” he said quickly, “ and I’ll bet you he don’t 
come again. You see! ” 

He glared fiercely, much to the other’s amusement, 
as Canon Smith opened the door. The latter was 
innocently intent upon his favourite brand. 

“ Good morning,” he said pleasantly. “ Quite a 
change in the weather.” 

“ Yes — nasty draught now you’ve left the door 
open,” snapped Rice. 

A little bit annoyed, the Canon turned and closed 
the door, then he came up to the counter. 

“ Do you keep ‘ Southern Mixture ’ ? ” 

“ Yes,” was the curt response from the tobac- 
conist, who had not altered his position in the least. 


82 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


A quarter of a pound tin, please,” demanded the 
Canon. 

“ It's up there. You can get it if you want it,” 
ejaculated Rice, suddenly pointing to a shelf high 
up on the side of the shop, and winking, ever so 
slightly, at the other man. 

The Canon saw the wink. For just a moment 
he was angry at the insult, and half turned to go. 
Then suddenly a recollection of the smoking-room 
at St. Moritz swept over him — a scene when some 
one had been purposely rude to the “ Sandy Saint ” 
and had thereby succeeded in clearing the room of 
him. Intuitively he perceived that he was in a 
kindred atmosphere. Instantly he decided not to 
accept defeat, and then an inkling of a smile rose to 
his lips as a plan of action unfolded itself in his 
mind. 

“ Thanks,” he said quietly. Then he took the one 
chair the shop possessed in front of the counter, 
mounted it, and reached down a tin of “ Southern 
Mixture ” from the shelf. Placing the tin in his 
pocket, and still standing on the chair, he asked: 

** How much ? ” 

One and eightpence.” 

The Canon took out his purse, deliberately counted 
the money, and, reaching up once more, placed it on 
the shelf. 

You can get it if you want it,” he said, with a 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


83 


humorous twinkle in his eye as he got down from 
his perch. “ Good morning ! ” 

A grin slowly broke out on the face of the 
tobacconist, while the other man jumped to his feet 
with a hearty laugh. 

“ By George, that^s one in the eye for you. 
Rice ! he exclaimed. ‘‘ I believe he’s a chap worth 
knowing.” 

He ran out of the shop, overtook the Canon, 
and touched him on the shoulder. 

“ Good morning ! ” he said. You didn’t recog- 
nise me in the shop, did you ? Ha, ha ! — ^you made 
old Rice sit up a bit ! ” 

I really haven’t the pleasure ” 

Oh yes, you have. We met at the Dean’s the 
other day — ^he’s my uncle, you know.” 

‘‘ Ah, dear me, I suppose we did — ^yes — I re- 
member you now.” 

As a matter of fact they had never been in- 
troduced, but they had both been in the same room 
at the Dean’s. 

‘‘ Our friend the tobacconist is a character — but 
I think he met his match this morning. Which 
way are you going?” 

They had just reached a turn in the street, and 
Canon Smith seemed undecided. 

“ Well, to tell you the truth,” he said, “ I’m do- 
ing a little shopping this morning, and I’m not 


84 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


accustomed to the town yet. I’m on the look-out 
for a stationer — and a fishmonger. Perhaps you 
can help me, Mr ?” 

Horne — Everett Horne — same surname as the 
Dean’s,” replied the other, his lips twitching with an 
amused expression. ‘‘ Yes — I think I can put you 
in the way of getting some excellent fish, at all 
events. I’ll go with you.” 

“ It’s very kind of you. I hope I’m not taking 
you out of your way?” 

“ Quite the contrary,” said Everett Home drily. 

Presently they stopped in front of a particularly 
well-appointed shop, and Horne motioned the Canon 
to enter. 

I will be with you again in a minute,” he said, 
as he left his companion to choose his fish. The 
latter did not notice, for the moment, where Everett 
Horne went, but was engrossed in the conflicting 
choice between whiting and soles. 

‘‘ Well, I hope you’ve found what you wanted? ” 
exclaimed a voice at his elbow a minute later. 

Oh yes— thanks— Why ! ” 

The Canon uttered an exclamation of astonish- 
ment as he turned. Everett Horne stood beside 
him, in his shirt-sleeves, with a dark blue-and-white 
apron girded round his waist. 

“ I can guarantee the whiting,” he said gravely ; 
“ they are some of the finest I have had this 
year.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


85 


“ You — you — I don’t quite understand ! ” ex- 
claimed the Canon. 

“ I’ve had the pleasure of bringing you to my 
own shop, that’s all — and securing a regular cus- 
tomer, I hope — the only one in the Close. Some- 
how my uncle neither patronises nor recommends 
me. Sam, clean out those whiting, and send them 
round to the Canon in Residence.” 

He looked keenly at the Canon. The latter took 
out his purse with a smile. 

Shall I pay you ready money ? ” 

‘^Or would you prefer a book?” 

“ By all means.” 

Then Everett Horne knew that he had passed the 
ordeal, and was satisfied. 

“ Now,” he said, will you spare a few minutes 
and come behind the scenes ? I’m in bachelor quar- 
ters.” 

“ Delighted,” said John Smith, as he followed his 
host through the shop, and upstairs into a charming 
room at the back of the house, overlooking one of 
the old gardens for which the city of Frattenbury is 
famous. 

“ You see,” he explained, as he lit his pipe, I’m 
rather a Bohemian in my way, and it doesn’t alto- 
gether go down in Frattenbury with your ilk. But 
I tell Uncle it isn’t my fault he’s a Dean, and there 
ought to be a living for both of us.” 

‘‘ How long have you been a — a ” 


86 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Fishmonger? Oh, some years. I’ve knocked 
about and tried my hand at lots of things. Well, 
I’m very glad to secure you for a customer. And 
how do you think you’ll like your three months’ 
residence here?” 

Well,” said the Canon slowly, ‘‘ I hardly know. 
I’ve been here such a short time.” 

He was wondering whether this man had any 
object in trying to draw him out. 

Everett Horne smoked his pipe silently for a few 
seconds. Then he drew it from his mouth and 
puffed out a cloud of smoke. 

It’s a rum place, to my mind,” he said. 

How so?” 

‘‘ Oh, well, perhaps you’ll find out. Canon Smith. 
Take any interest in that sort of thing? ” he added 
carelessly, jerking his head towards a notice of the 

Ratepayers’ Association ” that was pinned to the 
wall. 

I’ve heard it spoken of,” replied the Canon 
evasively. 

By one of the Cathedral clergy?” 

Yes — the Archdeacon.” 

Who scarcely lauded it, eh ? ” 

‘‘ He said it was a pity.” 

‘‘ So it is — when you have two streets of wretched 
houses that are positively unsanitary, and can’t get 
the landlords to take the matter up or the Town 
Council to make ’em.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


87 


Who are the landlords ? 

Everett Horne gave a puff or two, and then 
answered drily: 

Half the houses belong to the Mayor — the others 
are the property of — a certain corporate body/’ 
What corporate body ? ” 

‘‘ The Dean and Chapter of Frattenbury ! ” 

The Canon gave a little start. The mention of 
the Mayor recalled certain reminiscences, while the 
last statement was difficult to answer. 

Come and look at my crocuses,” said Everett 
Horne, rising, and motioning the Canon to the 
window ; fine, aren’t they ? ” 

Very fine. But I must really go now. Will 
you come and see me some evening?” 

“ Pleasure ! Specially as you keep Southern 
Mixture.” 

The Canon gave a glance at the bill as he left 
the room. 

‘‘ You’re the Chairman of this Association, I 
see?” 

I am.” 

They went down into the shop together. Here 
the Canon hesitated. 

What did you say the name ” 

Grove Street and Palmer’s Alley — second turn- 
ing to the left, up North Street. Hope you’ll like 
the fish. Good morning ! ” 

He turned briskly to serve a customer, while 


88 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Canon Smith slowly walked out of the shop. The 
latter, after making a few other purchases, took a 
roundabout way home to the Close. He sauntered 
up the North Street, and he presently followed a 
turning to the right. Here he soon found himself 
in a squalid, poverty-stricken slum, conspicuous in 
the midst of which was a gaudy public-house with 
the legend, “ Taylor’s Noted Frattenbury Ales,” in- 
scribed in enormous letters on the face of it. 

Sir Daniel Taylor was the Mayor. The Canon 
was reluctantly beginning to understand matters. 
Sundry conversations at St. Moritz were recalled 
to his mind. 

At the door of one of the dark little houses a 
slatternly, brazen-faced woman was standing, arms 
akimbo, breath smelling of morning beer. As the 
Canon came slowly along the street she eyed him 
suspiciously. 

‘‘ Can you tell me if I can get round this way 
to the Cathedral ? ” he asked, stopping in front 
of her. 

‘^Yes. Be you the Dean?” 

Strange ignorance of a denizen of a Cathedral 
City! 

No.” 

‘‘ I thought yer might be. But ’e knows better 
than to come anigh us. They do say,” she went 
on with semi-alcoholic garrulousness, ‘‘ that ’e owns 
this ’ere street, but we never sees no one but an 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


89 


agent. ’E’s got a big ^ouse and don’t care ’ow the 
likes of us lives s’ long’s gits ’is rent, I reckon.” 

Is there — is there anything the matter with these 
houses ? ” asked the Canon uncomfortably, feeling 
for all the world like a spy. 

Is there anything the matter ! ” sniffed the 
woman ; ‘‘ will yer walk inside ? ” 

He followed — with reddening cheeks. 

The woman led the way to the back scullery 
and pointed to the sink. 

Put yer nose to the spout while I pumps,” she 
exclaimed, and yer’ll soon see if anything’s the 
matter.” 

He declined to investigate quite so far. She 
pumped all the same. The result was obvious. 

But surely you have the water laid on? ” 

“ One tap — out at the back — for twelve houses, 
and we can’t always be a-fetchin’ on it. But that’s 
the way they gits out of it. I’d like to get the 
Dean’s ’ead under this ’ere spout ! ” 

As he emerged from the house, the first person 
he saw coming up the street was Eleanor Taylor. 
She must have observed where he had been. 

Good morning ! ” she said, as she met him. 

Not a very nice neighbourhood, is it? ” 

‘‘ Not very,” he replied, and it seems worse in- 
side than out.” 

‘‘ I’m glad to hear you say so,” she replied ; it’s 
quite time some one investigated matters.” 


90 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Oh,” he said, “ I just went into one of the 
houses — ^by accident.” 

“Yes?” she said half enquiringly, “I daresay 
you have heard they are in a bad state. The 
‘ Powers that be ’ in Frattenbury want stirring up 
about these things, you know. I often tell my father 
so.” 

“ Well,” replied the Canon reflectively, “ perhaps 
a way may be found of setting things to rights if 
they are really so bad. Good morning ! ” 

She smiled softly to herself as she walked on. 
Palmer’s Alley was familiar to her as a bone of 
contention, and she remembered having mentioned 
it to him at St. Moritz. Her smile gave place to 
a groan as her eyes presently lit on “ Taylor’s Noted 
Frattenbury Ales.” 

And the Canon pursued his way home thought- 
fully, not without once again congratulating the 
Fates that Eleanor Taylor had not recognised 
him. 

It was a few days after this that the Dean was 
seated at lunch with his wife. They were at either 
end of a long table, monotonously set out with 
great exactitude as to the position of cutlery and 
spoons. Before the Dean was a large dish on which 
lay two exceedingly small cutlets. One of these 
he sent to his wife, the other he took himself. 
Minute portions of vegetables followed. 

The Dean was a tall, lantern-cheeked man, with 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


91 


dark side-whiskers, scrupulously parallel. His legs 
were slender, and his scanty apron hung in perpen- 
dicular folds. 

Folks liked being asked to meals at the Deanery — 
naturally. But they invariably came away hungry. 
The Archdeacon’s butler always prepared a large 
plate of sandwiches and left them on the table anent 
the return of his master whenever the latter dined 
with the Dean. For the Archdeacon’s apron was 
strongly inclined to horizontal creases. 

The Dean, having solemnly finished his cutlet, 
pinched up his lower lip with the thumb and fore- 
finger of his left hand, and tapped his folding glasses 
on the table gently with the other hand. 

His wife understood the meaning of this. Some- 
thing had ruffled the Decanal mind. 

She was a short, pinched-looking woman, with 
a sharp face that was always poking itself forward, 
and a quick, grating voice. She rejoiced in the 
Christian name of Octavia. 

“ Ahem ! ” coughed the Dean. 

“My dear?” 

“ I have been surprised this morning, Octavia — ■ 
not to say annoyed.” 

“ It’s Everett again, I suppose. He ought to leave 
the town. His position here is preposterous. 
What has he been doing now ? ” 

It is not entirely Everett, my dear,” replied the 
Dean, “though he is greatly to blame. He had 


92 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


one of his Ratepayers' Association meetings last 
night.” 

‘‘ They ought to be stopped. Why doesn’t the 
Mayor order the police to prevent people going 
to them?” said the Dean’s wife, with a fine sense 
of local veto. 

“ They discussed the sanitation of Palmer’s Alley, 
I am told.” 

Impertinence ! ” 

But that is not the point, Octavia. I have 
actually heard that Canon Smith was at the meet- 
ing.” 

Mrs. Horne laid down her fork with a crash, and 
sent her head forward with a jerk. 

^^Whatr' 

The Dean nodded appallingly. ** I fear it is per- 
fectly true ! ” 

You will speak to him about it ? ” 

‘'If opportunity serves I shall — ahem! — not for- 
get to mention it.” 

“ You will tell the Bishop? ” 

“ He ought not to be left ignorant of the doings of 
his clergy.” 

“ Did he speak? Did he say anything? Was he 
on the, platform? Who took him there? Did he 
go of his own accord? Did he know what he was 
doing? ” 

“ My dear,” said the Dean, “ these, of course, 
are questions to which one will have to find an- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


96 


swers. All I know at present is that he was there! ” 
Mrs. Horne ruminated in horror. 

Pity he isn’t a curate,” she said, with a lively 
recollection of what would have happened in the 
Dean’s late parish. You haven’t half the power 
you ought to have.” 

“ My dear,” said the Dean, with a majestic effort 
of Christian charity, let us not judge him 
hastily ” 

But he was there! ” 

True, true,” replied the Dean, sadly shaking his 
head, he was there. It is certainly most extraor- 
dinary ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


The meeting of the Guild of St. Rogers for Men- 
servants ” was over. There had been no less than 
nine of that fraternity present in the Miss Milling- 
tons’ drawing-room. First, there was their own 
solemn butler, then the respective butlers of the 
Dean, the Archdeacon, and Sir Daniel Taylor, the 
page-boy of the former, a sprinkling of other men- 
servants from the Close, and the individual re- 
joicing in the name of William Bubb, who had been 
sent in from Lady Cunningham, who lived just out- 
side Frattenbury. 

The said William Bubb, by reason of residing at a 
distance, had been graciously sent to the kitchen for 
tea.” Here he sat, his arm round the cook’s waist 
— for it was in virtue of “ keeping company ” with 
this culinary domestic that he had joined the Guild, 
and not for his soul’s sake — and a big jug of beer 
in front of him on the table. The Dean’s page-boy 
had surreptitiously invited himself to tea, foras- 
much as the aforesaid cook was his aunt and her 
cakes were excellent, cake being unknown in the 
Dean’s household. 

The solemn butler stood with his back to the fire, 
a glass of beer in hand, surveying the scene placidly. 

94 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


95 


Well,” said the cook, I hope you’ve had a 
proper jawin’. You wants it, all of you.” 

“ Prime ! ” said the page-boy, cramming a huge 
piece of cake into his mouth. ‘‘ It’s done me a lot 
o’ good. I feels heaps better.” 

The solemn butler smiled majestically. 

“ You looks it, young cockalorum,” he said. 

It’s relieved your conscience and given you an 
appetite for your food, eh ? ” 

‘‘ I never has any trouble about the appetite,” 
ejaculated the boy; ‘‘ it’s food I’m generally in want 
of.” 

There was a laugh at this, the state bf the Dean- 
ery being pretty well known. 

William Bubb slowly took his arm from the cook’s 
waist, raised his glass to his lips, emptied it, poured 
himself out another, put his arm in its former posi- 
tion, and said meditatively: 

‘‘ He ain’t a bad sort.” 

Who ain’t ? ” asked the cook. 

‘‘ The parson who talked to us.” 

‘‘Who was it?” 

“ Canon Smith,” said the solemn butler. 

“ Lor ! Why, I might have known that without 
asking.” 

“ Why, my dear ? ” asked William Bubb. 

“ Ask the missusses why,” replied the cook, gig- 
gling. “ He’s a single man, is Canon Smith — go 
up and ask the missusses why they had him in and 


96 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


asked him to stay to tea. They knows, Lor bless 
you ! ” 

William Bubb made no effort to carry out the 
cook’s injunction. He merely whistled. 

‘‘ You wimmen are all alike,” he said, always 
a-tryin’ to entangle us ” — which philosophical truism 
made the cook toss her head and mutter “ Impu- 
dence ! ” 

‘‘ You’re quite right, William,” said the solemn 
butler ; he’s a cut above the rest of ’em. What I 
liked about him was that he spoke fair. I’ve never 
attended one of these humbugging meetings yet 
without being told about ‘ my station in life,’ and 
jawed at about duty to my betters, or had total ab- 
stinence rammed down my throat, or been given a 
sermon on swearing. But he didn’t take up any o’ 
these lines; eh, William? ” 

“No,” replied Bubb; “he spoke as if he was a 
man himself, and not a parson. There was a deal 
o’ human nature in what he saia, too.” 

“ What d’yer call human nature ? ” asked the cook 
innocently. 

“This, my dear,” he responded, giving her a 
squeeze — “ likewise this,” he added, pouring out an- 
other glass of beer. 

“Was that what he talked about?” asked the 
cook with a laugh. 

“ Not exactly. But he wasn’t bad, as I said just 
now.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


97 


“ The Dean don’t like him,” remarked the page- 
boy as well as he could, his mouth being full. 

‘‘How do you know, young ’un?” asked the 
solemn butler. 

“ I heard him tell the old woman he was upsettin’ 
things at their Chapter meetings — somethin’ about 
some houses or somethin’.” 

“ Palmer’s Alley,” said the butler. “ Time some- 
thing was done to ’em, from what I’ve heard.” 

Just then the drawing-room bell rang, and the 
butler left the kitchen to answer it. He returned in 
a minute or two with a plate in his hand. 

“ More bread and butter, cook. It’s a very pretty 
sight upstairs.” 

“ What’s up ? ” asked cook. 

“ They’re all a-sitting round him — hemming him 
in, so to speak. Miss Millington’s a-loading him up 
with tea. Miss Bella’s a-talking about you, William 
— I heard her say you was a worthy young man — 
and Miss Daisy’s ra-looking at him with languishing 
eyes and a-tryin’ to get in a word about her ‘ Mission 
to the Cinder-Sifters ’ up in London — and, I tell 
you, he looks deuced uncomfortable.” 

“Is Miss Jane there?” 

“ She’s sitting in a comer of the room a-laughing 
up her sleeve at the lot of ’em.” 

“Well,” said William Bubb, “there’s safety in 
numbers.” 

“ And there’s another thing,” ejaculated cook, as 


98 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


she went on cutting the bread and butter, not one 
on ’em ’ull ever get hold of him alone.” 

“ Same as you did me ! ” put in Bubb. 

‘‘Go along with you! No, they ain’t built that 
way — else they’d never have been old maids.” 

“ You put too much confidence in your sex, 
cook,” replied the butler sententiously. “ I’d never 
have fallen a victim to their individual charms, I 
know.” 

“ I think he ought to have his mother along with 
him to shapperoon him,” remarked William Bubb; 
“ ’tisn’t quite proper.” 

Upstairs, the subject of their conversation sat 
much as the butler had described him, a little bored 
and a little amused with the chatter of the Miss 
Millingtons. He felt, when he rose to go, that he 
had performed his duty manfully. 

“ So very kind of you to come,” said Miss Mill- 
ington, with the slightest linger in her handshake; 
“ I’m sure it has done them all a great deal of 
good. It is so encouraging to find any one in- 
terested in our little work. Don’t you agree with 
us that the men-servants being a class apart ought 
to be dealt with as a class apart? 

“ It was ordained so by Providence,” she added, 
as an answer, sotto voce, with a comforting recollec- 
tion of the orthodox manner of explaining the 
Church Catechism, and a dim reverence for the far- 
reaching abilities of a Providence who entered into 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


99 


such details as the designing of butlers in the scheme 
of Creation. 

'' Quite so/’ ejaculated Bella. “ It has been a 
capital meeting, thanks to you. Good-hyt ! ” 

And she, too, enjoyed her handshake. 

‘‘Then may I ask you to look through these?” 
said Daisy plaintively, thrusting, desperately, a con- 
siderable bundle of papers into the Canon’s hand. 
“ The poor Cinder-Sifters ” 

“ Daisy, my love,” said Miss Millington reproach- 
fully, “ I’m sure Canon Smith has quite enough 
things ” 

“ Not at all, not at all. I’ll read them with pleas- 
ure, though I can’t promise to help you, I fear. 
Good-bye.” 

“ Ring the bell, Jane, dear,” said Miss Millington. 
Whereupon the butler appeared in the hall to show 
Canon Smith out. 

“ Ahem ! ” said the butler, with his hand on the 
latch, “ much obliged to you for your address, sir. 
We liked it.” 

The Canon looked at him keenly. The man’s 
eyes were perfectly honest, and something told him 
there was no flattery in the remark. 

“ I’m very glad.” 

“ Thank you, sir.” 

Now, the particular address in question had cost 
the Canon some experience, and he knew very well 
that his week’s stay in St. Moritz under disguise 


100 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


had helped him in its composition. He had taken 
a line that would never have suggested itself to 
him a year ago. 

The following morning was a glorious one, and, 
after Cathedral service, the Canon indulged in a 
ramble through the lovely meadowland outside 
Frattenbury. As he was returning he overtook 
Jane Rutland, who was leading by a string a very 
fat pug dog, clad in a blue coat. 

He wished her Good morning as he overtook 
her, and made some remark about the dog, which 
she told him belonged to her aunts. 

They are devoted to him,’' she said with a 
smile ; “ I think he comes next to the men-servants 
and the cinder-sifters.” 

“ And how do you like Frattenbury? ” she asked 
presently, as they walked side by side. 

Well,” he replied, ‘‘ I hardly know yet. I’ve 
got to get used to it. Of course I find it very dif- 
ferent from my parish at Market Shapborough.” 

It is the first time you have lived in a Cathedral 
City?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well,” she said hesitatingly, “ I confess I have 
been a little disappointed since I came here. I had 
never lived under the shadow of a Cathedral before, 
and somehow one expected something different.” 

“ May I ask in what way ? ” said the Canon. 

Oh, I don’t exactly know,” she replied with a 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


101 


nervous little laugh ; “ only, when one contrasts the 
Cathedral itself and its grandeur with all the 
pettiness and cliqueism and gossip that the Close 
appears to breed, it seems, somehow, so out of 
place — I hope you don’t mind my saying so ? ” 

‘‘ Not at all. I have even begun to appreciate 
your meaning already.” 

“ Have you, really ? And then there’s another 
thing that strikes me sometimes — I daresay it’s 
wrong — but, frankly now, don’t you think there’s a 
great waste of energy? I don’t mean anything 
personal, for I know you take an interest in out- 
side things; but when I see all the Cathedral clergy 
doing very little else but holding daily services and 
attending tea-fights and garden-parties, and when 
I think, for instance, of that Vicar of St. Agnes’ 
parish, just outside the city walls, who has four 
or five thousand poor people to see to and can’t af- 
ford a curate, it — well, it doesn’t seem to me to 
be quite the sort of thing that He, in Whose Name 
the Cathedral stands, intended. Please, don’t think 
me very silly for saying so.” 

The Canon was silent for a moment or two be- 
fore he answered. 

Of course,” he said slowly, the dignity of the 
Cathedral and its services must be maintained.” 

I quite agree with you. But sometimes even 
dignity ought to be sacrificed for the sake of 
others.” 


102 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Fm afraid,’^ said the Canon, “ that you are a 
little harsh in your judgment, but I own there is 
much in what you say. I have even thought so 
myself, sometimes. By the way, what is that big 
building — a little to the left of the Cathedral?'’ 

‘‘With the tall chimney? Oh, that contains the 
fortune-making machinery of Sir Daniel Taylor.” 

“ Oh, I see^ — his brewery.” 

“ Do you know,” she replied, again with her 
nervous little laugh, “ I couldn’t help thinking, the 
other day, that they make a curious comparison.” 

“ In what way ? ” 

“ The two great powers in the city — that spire 
and chimney — God and Mammon. Well I am 
taking this path, and must wish you good morn- 
ing.” 

The Canon shook hands with her, and went on 
his way perplexed and thoughtful. Then the old 
text ran through his mind as he thought of her 
words — “ Ye cannot serve God and Mammon.” 

He remembered the last Chapter meeting, to 
which the Dean’s page-boy had alluded. And then 
his stick began twirling round and round: slowly 
at first, but increasing in speed. This never hap- 
pened unless the worthy John Smith was par- 
ticularly pleased with himself. 

Entering the Close a quarter of an hour or so 
later, he saw the Dean walking ahead of him, arm- 
in-arm and in earnest conversation with the portly 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


103 


and white-haired knight who was rejoicing in fill- 
ing the office of Mayor of Frattenbury. 

‘‘ Spire and chimney ’’ — God and Mammon/’ 
What made the Canon purse up his lips and grasp 
his stick more firmly? 


CHAPTER IX 


It was breakfast-time with the Miss Millingtons. 
The eldest of the three had finished reading prayers, 
the matutinal kisses and greetings had been duly 
given and received, James had brought in the coffee- 
urn, and the meal was about to be commenced. 

Sunday letters lay beside the plate of each lady. 
The opening and reading of the morning corre- 
spondence was conducted upon a recognised system. 
Guesses were first hazarded concerning handwriting 
and postmarks. Then the letters were opened and 
read by their respective recipients, after which ex- 
tracts from the correspondence were given for the 
general edification and discussion. 

It had been suggested to Jane Rutland, when she 
had come, as an orphan, to live with her aunts, that 
she should follow the latter course of procedure; 
but she had strongly objected, much to the surprise 
of the others, who were also somewhat shocked to 
think that Janey might have secrets to conceal — 
‘‘ not the thing for a young girl ! ” 

Bella had already successfully surmised from 
whom were her share of the letters, and Miss Mill- 
ington was saying: 

“ Ah — this is Mrs. Percival’s writing — she has 
104 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


105 


been a long time answering. Who have you heard 
from, Daisy, dear? Some one from abroad, evi- 
dently,’' she muttered, replying, as usual, to herself. 
For Daisy was intently regarding a thin envelope 
with a blue foreign stamp. 

‘‘ From Genoa,” she said. “ Oh, I know — it’s 
from Katey Barrett She promised to give me an 
account of her tour. I daresay there will be a 
message to you, Janey, from your friend Maud 
Caxton — unless you have heard from her? ” 

And she glanced suspiciously at Jane’s corre- 
spondence. 

Oh no,” replied the latter with a laugh. 

We’re great chums, Maud and I, but she only 
writes once in a blue moon. I hope she’s enjoy- 
ing her trip with Mrs. Barrett.” 

Daisy opened her letter and began to read it, 
complacently enough, but suddenly, when she was 
half-way through, the colour rushed to her cheeks, 
and then as suddenly left them. She took a sip 
of coffee with a half gasp, looking furtively at the 
others, who, being deep in their correspondence, 
did not notice her. 

Then, when she had finished reading her letter, 
she folded it up, put it in its envelope, and slipped 
it quickly into her pocket. Immediately afterwards 
she put a large spoonful of salt into her coffee, and 
attacked her under-boiled egg desperately with a 
fork. 


106 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Well, Daisy, dear,^’ said Miss Millington, after 
she had read extracts from her own correspondence 
and listened to Bella’s, ‘‘ and what have you got 
to tell us ? ” 

Oh,” said Daisy, growing very red, nothing 
particular. They are at Genoa.” 

‘‘ So the postmark told us,” snapped Bella. 
“What else?” 

“ They’ve been staying at Mentone — and now: 
they’re in Italy,” faltered Daisy. 

“Of course they are,” said Bella tartly, looking at 
Daisy severely and making the latter ten times more 
uncomfortable ; “ where else could Genoa be ? ” 

“ Daisy, darling,” said Miss Millington in a tone 
of gentle and elder-sisterly reproof, “ suppose you 
read us the letter? Bella and I know Mrs. Barrett 
so well, and we should like to hear all about her.” 

Daisy put her hand in her pocket, and faltered : 

“ I didn’t think you’d care to hear it,” she said, 
getting more violently red. 

“ Daisy, what is the matter with you? ” demanded 
Bella. 

Then the unfortunate Daisy, completely cowed, 
opened the letter again and began: 

“ My dearest Daisy, — I ought to have written to 
you before to tell you of our delightful time at 
Mentone. We have only just left there, and are 
staying a couple of days at Genoa, making up our 
mind where we shall go to next. We are thinking 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 107 


of taking a little trip in Italy and the Lake District, 
but our plans are not quite matured yet. I find Maud 
Caxton a charming girl; she has been very attentive 
and useful. She sends her love to your niece, Janey, 
and a message that she will write soon. 

Well, dear, as I say, we had a delightful time in 
Mentone. The weather was perfect and the hotel 
most comfortable, and we met such nice people.” 

Here Daisy summoned up courage and stopped 
abruptly. 

Well? ” exclaimed Miss Millington. 

‘‘ Well?” echoed Bella. 

“ I’d — I’d rather not read any more,” faltered 
Daisy, to the great amusement of Jane Rutland. 

Why not? ” demanded both sisters imperatively, 
astonished at this declaration. 

In abject despair Daisy passed the letter on to 
her eldest sister. 

Perhaps you had better read it,” she murmured. 

Miss Millington was not slow to take advantage 
of this request. Bella laid down her knife and fork 
to listen. 

“ But first of all I have quite a little scandal to 
tell you. Staying at our hotel in Mentone, a few 
weeks after Christmas, was an extraordinary clergy- 
man whom I have since found out you must know 
something about. For is not your new Canon named 
Smith? And is he not the Vicar of Market Shap- 
borough? If so, he is the same man, and you will be 


108 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


interested to hear of his strange behaviour abroad. 
I’m sure it would make the Frattenbury people open 
their eyes ” 

Here Miss Millington, who in her turn had grown 
suddenly red, paused in her reading, and perused 
the rest of the letter in silence, paying no attention 
to Bella’s effort to obtain further information. 

When she had finished she kept possession of 
the letter. 

“ Daisy, my dear,” she said, in slightly faltering 
tones, “ you should have kept this till another time.” 

“ But, Rose, dear, you asked me ” began the 

unfortunate Daisy. 

“ Never mind,” said Bella sternly. ‘‘ What is it. 
Rose ? May I see ? ” 

Not now,” said Miss Millington; “ after break- 
fast we will discuss the matter between us. Jane,” 
she went on, turning to her niece, I particularly 
desire that you will not mention a word of this to 
anybody. It was not intended for your ears, and 
your Aunt Daisy would not care to have her letters 
talked about.” 

“ Oh,” said Jane, just a little ruffled, “ I am not 
given to talking scandal— you needn’t be afraid of 
me! Besides, there is nothing for me to mention. 
I haven’t even heard what was Canon Smith’s crime. 
Perhaps he went to the Carnival in a domino.” 

Janey,” said Bella, it is out of place for you 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


109 


to discuss a Cathedral dignitary like this. I’m 
ashamed of you ! ” 

Jane shrugged her shoulders, and said : 

‘‘Why shouldn’t he wear a domino if he wants 
to?” 

“ Jane! ” exclaimed Miss Millington with terrible 
dignity, “ you are positively indecent to hint at such 
things.” 

“ On the contrary,” said Jane, “ a domino is one 
of the most decent of garments — for either sex. 
And almost monastic, too — quite ecclesiastical.” 

The three spinsters regarded her with an awful 
frown. When the uncomfortable remainder of the 
breakfast was over, a solemn consultation was held, 
Jane not being present. 

“ First,” said Miss Millington, “ I will read you 
the rest of the letter.” 

And she read as follows: 

“ He only stayed a week at the hotel, but he 
created quite a sensation. Every day he went over 
to Monte Carlo and played at the gambling tables 
— we saw him there ourselves (of course, dear, we 
only went out of curiosity, and a degrading sight 
it was !). He played for very high stakes, and I hear 
that he used dreadful language when he lost. Then, 
at the hotel, he was quite intoxicated on one occasion. 
He drank enormous quantities of champagne. And 
he sat up half the night playing bridge, and smoking 
with some very questionable-looking men. He was 


110 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


dressed in clerical clothes all the time, and didn’t seem 
a bit ashamed of himself. He gave his name as Mr. 
Smith, and we only found out quite by accident who 
he was. He had been sitting out on the verandah, 
near us, and as he took out his tobacco-pouch I saw 
something fall from his pocket. Of course I couldn't 
speak to him to tell him of it. He got up to go, and I 
picked up his card-case (that is what he had dropped), 
with the intention of giving it to the hotel porter. 
I really couldn't resist the temptation to look inside 
— and, after all, a card-case is public property, in a 
sense. There was his name and address — ‘ The 
Reverend John Smith, the Vicarage, Market Shap- 
borough ’ — on his card. 

I didn’t attach any importance to this — except 
that I felt pity for the people of Market Shapbo rough. 
But, last evening, I happened to pick up an old copy 
of the Church Times in the hotel, and there I saw a 
reference to the new Canon Smith — Vicar of Market 
Shapborough and Canon of Frattenhury Cathedral. I 
am writing to you at once, as I felt sure you would 
be interested. It seems he must be the same man. 

“ The Mr. Smith of Mentone was of medium height 
— about fifty — clean-shaven — hair slightly tinged with 
grey ” 

Oh!” 

It was a little shriek from Bella that interrupted 
Miss Millington’s reading. 

'' How dreadful I How positively dreadful ! ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 111 

It can/t be true,” said Daisy, “ there must be 
some mistake ! ” 

“ He has had tea in this very house ! ” ejaculated 
Miss Millington. 

'‘And addressed the members of the Guild of 
St. Rogers,” put in Bella. 

“And promised to read about the Cinder-Sift- 
ers ! ” sighed Daisy. 

“What is to be done?” said Miss Millington. 
“ What is to be done? Something must be done.” 

“ But it may be all a mistake,” said the miserable 
Daisy. “ I can't think it of him — he is so nice, isn’t 
he, Bella?” 

“ He is a Canon of Frattenbury Cathedral,” re- 
plied Bella, ignoring the adjective, “ and, being so, 
it is difficult to believe this terrible story. The 
Cathedral clergy have always been irreproachable. 
This is a great shock.” 

“ What is to be done? ” repeated Miss Millington. 

“ Nothing,” ventured Daisy; “ let us give him the 
benefit of the doubt and say nothing.” 

“ That would not be right,” replied Miss Milling- 
ton struggling within herself; “if the story is true 
it ought to be known.” 

There was a painful silence, broken by Miss 
Millington. 

“ / know ! ” she exclaimed triumphantly. 
“What?” f 


112 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


I shall show the Dean the letter — in strict con- 
fidence.” 

‘‘ The Dean is a dear man,” murmured Bella. 

“ But it is my letter,” said Daisy. 

“ That is nothing to do with it. The Dean must 
see it. He will know what is best to be done.” 

Daisy expostulated in vain, and then gave in. 
Bella reluctantly agreed that the Dean ought to be 
told. Finally, all three ladies looked upon the tell- 
ing of him as a Christian duty, and each admitted, 
strictly to herself, that the performance of Christian 
duty implied something of the pains of martyrdom, 
and each hoped that the Dean would be able to 
throw some light upon the subject — to the effect 
that the Canon’s innocence might be established. 

An hour later, and Miss Millington was closeted 
with the Dean in his study. He read the fatal let- 
ter carefully, his eyebrows rising more and more as 
he did so. 

‘‘ Dear me I ” he exclaimed, when he had finished. 
‘‘ Dear me! ” 

We thought we ought to tell you,” said Miss 
Millington nervously. ‘‘ What do you think of 
it?” 

‘‘ You have acted quite rightly. It is extraor- 
dinary — ^most extraordinary.” 

And he read the letter through again. 

‘‘ You don’t think,” said the half-repentant Miss 
Millington in the tone of voice of one who imagined 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


113 


the process to be a literal one, with a possibility of 
its being performed in her presence — as the accuser, 
‘‘ you don’t think that he is in danger of being 
unfrocked? I hope not, I hope not/’ 

“ Do not alarm yourself,” said the Dean. “ It 
certainly sounds like an — ahem — indiscretion on 
Canon Smith’s part, but we will hope, for his sake 
as well as for the sake of all of us, that there is 
some mistake. It may, of course, have been some 
other clergyman who possessed some of his cards. 
We must not judge hastily. I should be sorry to 

think that one of the Cathedral clergy ” and he 

paused, his mind horror-struck at his own thoughts. 

“Have you Mrs. Barrett’s address?” he asked 
presently. “ I notice that ‘ Genoa ’ is the only ad- 
dress on this letter.” 

“ No. And you see her plans are uncertain, and 
that she is leaving Genoa.” 

“ Hum ! Well, I will see. Say nothing of this 
to any one — and tell your sisters not to mention 
it.” 

“ Yes— yes.” 

When she was gone the Dean pondered over the 
affair in silence, coming to his inevitable conclusion 
that his wife’s opinion might be worth having. So 
he sought his spouse and laid the case before her. 

“ What do you think of it, Octavia ? ” 

Octavia pursed her lips together and jerked her 
head forward. 


114 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ I knew it ! I knew it ! ” she exclaimed. 
‘‘Knew whatf asked the astonished Dean; 

“ surely you hadn’t heard anything ” 

“ I mean I knew that a man who was capable 
of attending that Ratepayers’ meeting and voting 
against you in the Chapter would be capable of 
anything. I’m not surprised.” 

“ But, my dear,” suggested the Dean, “ this is 
only a rumour. There is nothing much to go up- 


“ Leave it to me/* said his wife; “ I’ll soon find 
out if there's any truth in it.” 

And she sat down at her writing-table and began 
to scribble a note. 

“ What are you doing, Octavia? ” 

“ Asking Canon Smith to come and lunch with us 
to-morrow. Then we shall see.” 

“ But surely you don’t mean to charge him ” 

“Of course not. There are other methods. . . . 
There! If you ring the bell, Charles can take this 
round at once. I’ve had my suspicions of that man 
all along. You’ve been too easy with him.” 

“ You will not mention this to any one ? ” 

“ My dear!” 

Nevertheless she told her bosom friend in the 
Close that very afternoon that there was a strange 
rumour about Canon Smith. 

“ It’s something to do with his behaviour on the 
Continent, my dear. Of course it’s only hearsay. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


115 


but it is curious. I never talk scandal, so I won’t 
even tell you any more. Besides, there may be no 
truth in it. And this is in strict confidence. I 
wouldn’t have it mentioned for worlds.” 

Wherefore, before the week was out, all the 
Close knew that there was something ” about the 
Canon, and the Miss Millingtons put it down to 
Jane. 

The next day the Canon was eking out the minute 
portion of jelly which had been bestowed upon him 
at lunch, when the Dean’s wife, with a quick pre- 
liminary glance at her husband, commenced the at- 
tack. 

‘‘We hear you are writing another book. How 
are you getting on with it ? ” 

“ Pretty well, thanks,” replied the unsuspecting 
Canon; “most of the work is really done.” 

“ Oh yes. You were collecting materials for it 
abroad when the Canonry was vacant, were you 
not?” 

“ Yes. I was at Zurich.” 

“ Charming place. Did you stay there all the 
time you were away?” 

“ No.” 

“Ah,” broke in the Dean, who understood now 
the method of attack, “ and where else did you go? 
If I remember rightly it was some time before we 
knew if you had accepted the Canonry, owing to 
the offer not reaching you.” 


116 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Yes/' replied the Canon, feeling a little uncom- 
fortable, “ I was travelling." 

“ Indeed? ” said the Dean’s wife. “ In Switzer- 
land?" 

Yes — er — that is — not entirely," said the Canon, 
falling into the trap and speaking truthfully, for a 
few miles of his return journey via Como had been 
through Italy ; ‘‘ I — er — went a little trip afterwards 
— that is, I did not return home at once." 

“ Quite so," went on the Dean’s wife cheerfully ; 
you went southwards, I suppose ? The Riviera 
is always so delightful at the end of January." 

‘‘ Oh, it is," floundered the Canon, relieved to 
have avoided the mention of St. Moritz, and un- 
knowingly putting his foot in it all the more, while 
his face became painfully red, and he broke his 
bread into small pieces. 

‘‘Cheese?" enquired the Dean blandly. “And 
I trust you had a pleasant tour ? ’’ 

“ Oh, very, very," replied the Canon hastily. 
“ By the way, Mr. Dean, talking of my book, I 
think you have a work in your library which I 
rather want to consult — if you will allow me? " 

“ With pleasure," replied the Dean. 

A sardonic smile of triumph glittered across 
Octavia’s face as she rose from the table, leaving 
the two men to their coffee. 

And immediately the Canon had left the house 
she said to her husband: 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


117 


‘‘Well, what did I tell you? Did you see how 
he avoided all mention of what he did after leaving 
Zurich?’’ 

The Dean shook his head sadly. 

“ I fear there is something in it,” he said. 

“ Something in it? Of course there is. I knew 
there must be. What do you propose to do?” 

“ Well, my dear, I hardly know. Perhaps I 
ought to inform the Bishop ” 

“Rubbish! You are quite capable of dealing 
with the matter yourself. Canon Smith is your 
subordinate in the Chapter.” 

“ Or,” went on the Dean, catching .at a straw of 
manly honesty, “ it might be as well to tell the 
Canon plainly this rumour about him, and ask him 
to explain it. It is the more open course.” 

His wife gave him a withering look. 

“ You are not justified in doing any such thing! ” 
she snapped, her head poking forward in her de- 
cisive manner. “ In the first place, this was told 
you in confidence. In the second place. Canon 
Smith has been giving you a great deal of unnec- 
essary trouble. He has interfered in concerns 
which he ought to have left alone. Now,” she went 
on, shaking her forefinger at him, “if he goes too 
far you will have a hold over him. You take my 
advice and keep it to yourself — for the present.” 

And the Dean, being weak in spite of his dig- 
nity, acquiesced in this advice. 


118 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


A few days later Miss Millington met him, and 
asked him anxiously if there was any news. 

Ahem ! ” he replied, ‘‘ this is a delicate matter. 
Miss Millington. There is little to go upon, and 
I think the best thing is to take no notice of Mrs. 
Barrett’s letter.” 

Miss Millington was sadly mystified. 

Ought we to allow him to call — or ask him to 
tea?” she asked her sisters. I’m sure I don't 
know what to think about it.” 

It seems a shame to suspect him if we don’t 
know for certain,” remarked Daisy. 

“ I don*t suspect him,” snapped Bella. ‘‘ Mrs. 
Barrett was always a gossip.” 

It wasn’t my fault,” pleaded the unhappy Daisy. 

‘‘ No one is accusing you of such a thing, Daisy, 
dear,” said Miss Millington sententiously, “ though 
we shall be glad when you hear again from Mrs. 
Barrett. / think we ought to give him the benefit 
of the doubt — for the present.” 

Still,” said the contradictory Bella, with a 
crushing glance at Daisy, the letter was very cir- 
cumstantial — it is difficult.” 

‘‘ It is difficult ! ” sighed Miss Millington. I 
wish, Daisy, you had not read so much of that let- 
ter before Jane.” 


CHAPTER X 


Sir Daniel Taylor had evidently come down to 
breakfast in rather a bad temper, or else, to judge 
by the way he turned his newspaper, there had been 
a debate in the House on the Licensing Question, 
and the Temperance party had scored in a division. 
Eleanor sat opposite to him, quietly eating her 
breakfast, and looking from time to time with a 
half-amused smile at her father’s face. She knew 
very well that a storm was brewing, and was only 
waiting for it to break. 

Sir Daniel Taylor was a portly individual with 
clean-shaven, rubicund face, rather thick, pouting 
lips, rounded chin, flabby cheeks, and iron-grey hair. 
He wore a continuous look of self-satisfaction and 
importance, for he considered that he had a right 
to both. His pocket was well lined, he was the 
Chief Magistrate of Frattenbury, a very influential 
member of the County Conservative Association, 
and his Sovereign had been pleased to bestow the 
honour of knighthood upon him as a reward for 
having grown rich and having served his Party.” 

There were folks — in their second childhood — 
who could remember Sir Daniel’s father when the 


120 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


latter was a respectable haberdasher in Frattenbury. 
But it was doubtful whether Sir Daniel himself 
ever remembered it. At all events, nobody re- 
minded him of it. 

Presently, with an angry grunt. Sir Daniel laid 
down his paper, and the storm began. 

Eleanor, I want to talk to you very seriously.” 

Shall I ring to have the breakfast cleared away 
first? ” she asked; you are apt to be lengthy when 
you talk seriously.” 

“ I don’t wish to be interrupted,” said her father, 
turning a shade redder, and I wish you to be 
serious for once, if you can.” 

** I will be as serious as if you were on the bench 
and I was — a policeman. I believe that is the 
acme of seriousness.” 

Eleanor, I beg that you will not jest.” 

‘‘ I’m not jesting. Go on. I’m listening.” 

“ I had a visit from Mr. Horne last evening,” be- 
gan Sir Daniel. 

Oh, had you?” replied Eleanor; ‘‘and how is 
his uncle, the Dean? ” 

“ I don’t wish to speak about his uncle,” said 
Sir Daniel testily ; “ I wish the conversation to be 
confined strictly to himself.” 

“ Certainly,” said Eleanor imperturbably. “ Are 
you thinking of dealing with him? Because I hear 
that his fish is infinitely better than Webster’s.” 

“ Eleanor, once and for all I insist upon 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 121 

your being serious. Mr. Horne’s visit concerned 
you/' 

He looked at her critically, but, receiving no re- 
ply, went on. 

He came to ask for my consent to your hand 
in marriage,” he said half pompously and half in- 
dignantly. 

Eleanor stirred her coffee serenely. 

“ Ah,” she replied, he told me he was going to 
see you on the subject.” 

‘‘ I consider the whole question is preposterous — 
outrageous. What business had he to say anything 
at all to you? And how dared he, under existing 
circumstances, come to ME ? ” 

‘‘ It is the usual proceeding, I believe,” replied 
Eleanor demurely. “ Everett acted upon the con- 
ventional lines, and you are such an upholder of 
conventionality that I should think you ought to 
be pleased with him,” 

Pleased with him ! ” cried Sir Daniel. I tell 
you the thing is preposterous. I told him so.” 

Did you give any reasons ? ” 

Of course I gave reasons, plenty of them.” 

Perhaps you told him his family was not good 
enough for a brewer’s daughter,” said Eleanor with 
a laugh. ‘‘Let me see; the Hornes come from 
Dorsetshire, I believe. Everett’s mother was the 
Honourable Isabella Monkhurst. His father, the 
Dean’s brother, was in the Diplomatic Service, 


122 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


before he retired. And I hear there is a rumour 
that his other uncle, General Horne, will be given 
an important command abroad.’’ 

She brought out these names with wicked em- 
phasis, a merry twinkle in her eye. 

‘‘ Yes — yes — I know,” stammered Sir Daniel, 
his family is an excellent one, and the Dean and 
I are on the best of terms. It — it isn’t that at all. 
It’s the man himself I object to — his ridiculous 
Radical nonsense, his interfering ways, and — and 
the absurdity of his taking up a fishmongery busi- 
ness here.” 

I don’t see that the latter need upset you, 
father; it is an honest way of getting a living. Be- 
sides, we’re in trade ourselves.” 

‘‘ You must realise the distinction, Eleanor.” 

Only the distinction between the indefinite and 
the definite article — Everett’s is a ’ trade, ours is 
^ the ’ trade, as I know you like to call it.” 

It is quite a different thing,” said Sir Daniel 
pompously. 

I agree with you. I prefer Everett’s busi- 
ness.” 

Eleanor,” said Sir Daniel with a frown, speak- 
ing severely and making a strenuous effort to be 
calm, “ I repeat that the whole question is prepos- 
terous. I do not say — and I told him as much — 
that if Everett Horne would give up all associations 
with the Radical element in Frattenbury, which as- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


123 


sociations at the present juncture constitute a per- 
sonal insult to myself, and if he were to dispose of 
his business and seek some — ahem — avocation more 
suitable for his station, I do not say that I would 
raise any objection to his proposals, but, as it is 


And he waved his hand majestically. 

ril tell you what, father,” replied Eleanor, '' if 
you object so strongly to the fishmongery business, 
I might ask him to give it up and then you might 
start us in something.” 

‘‘ What?” 

Give him a public-house,” rejoined Eleanor. 

I heard you say the ‘ Blue Lion ’ was worth four 
or five hundred a year to a steady, go-ahead man. 
And 1 could help. How would you fancy me 
standing behind the bar drawing your beer — like 
this ? ” 

And she jumped up with a merry laugh, and 
suited the action to the word. 

Taylor’s sparkling mild ale!” she cried, hand- 
ing him an imaginary glass. 

Sir Daniel turned very red and angry. 

“ Eleanor, I desire that you do not make a mock- 
ery of my — ^my — ^profession,” he exclaimed; and I 
tell you, once and for all, that I am very naturally 
opposed to this match.” 

Very well,” said Eleanor dutifully. “ You 
want me to give him up, I suppose. After all, I 


124 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

don’t know that I very much care for the prospect 
of the Dean and his wife for my uncle and aunt. 
And if General Horne came to stay with us, he’d 

be sure to be fussy, and ” 

Sir Daniel brought his hand down upon the 
table. 

How you do run on ! ” he interrupted. “ Can’t 
you see my position? I have told you that — that 


You are definitely opposed to our engagement, 
and that it is preposterous.” 

I said nothing of the sort. I intimated that so 
long as Everett Horne continued chairman of the 
Ratepayers’ Association and — and ” 

‘‘ A fishmonger ! ” 

‘‘ Don’t interrupt me. Yes — exactly. I don’t 
object to — to ” 

‘‘ His relatives.” 

‘‘ Don’t interrupt me, Eleanor. I — I — of course, 
I consider that his relatives — are ” 

I don’t want to marry his relatives.” 

“ Confound it ! ” exclaimed Sir Daniel, I am 
putting the case as plainly as I can. I will not 
consent to this engagement under existing circum- 
stances — but — but ’ ’ 

Thank you, father,” she said, “ I’m glad he 
has got points that interest you. I shall tell him 
what you say. We are going for a bicycle ride 
together this afternoon. It’s early closing day. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 1J25 

That’s one of the consolations of his business — 
he gets an afternoon a week. I think, after all, I 
shan’t press him to take the ' Blue Lion.’ It means 
Sunday work. That’s another distinction between 
the two trades ! ” 

‘‘ I forbid you to — to — speak to him.” 

Father ! And his uncle is the Dean ! ” 

Sir Daniel snatched up his paper and rose from 
the table. 

Tell him what I say ! ” he exclaimed, as he went 
out of the room and banged the door. Eleanor 
remained, laughing heartily. 

“ So you see, dear,” she said to Everett as they 
were riding in the country outside Frattenbury that 
afternoon, “ if you were only a Conservative and 
would give up keeping shop, I believe he would give 
us his paternal blessing in the most approved 
style.” 

Everett laughed. 

‘‘And what do you say about it, Eleanor?” he 
asked. 

She looked at him with a softer light in her 
eyes and a smile on her face. 

“ I just admire your pluck,” she said — “ first be- 
cause of the way you’ve fought through thick and 
thin in the cause of reform — although it’s against 
my father; and secondly, because you’re earning 
an honest livelihood and don’t care what people 
say or think about you.” 


126 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


‘‘And you wouldn’t really mind being a fish- 
monger’s wife, darling?” 

Not a bit, dear. Why should I ? And,” she 
added softly, you see I’ve made up my mind to 
be a fishmonger’s wife whatever happens.” 

‘‘Even if your father still refuses?” 

“I somehow think that will be all right; but, if 
he refuses, isn’t it for me to ask if you’ll still have 
me, Everett ? ” 

“ Why, dear?” 

“ The proverbial shilling.” 

“ Nonsense ! Your love is enough to warrant my 
taking you into partnership.” 

“In the fish business?” 

“Yes, dear — and share profits!” 

A convenient hill offered an opportunity for walk- 
ing. On the top they sat down to rest. Their con- 
versation presently turned on the campaign for the 
improvement of Palmer’s Alley. 

“ Do you know,” he said, “ who is likely to be one 
of my chief helpers ? ” 

“ Is it Canon Smith ? ” 

“Yes. What made you think so?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know. I have heard father speak 
of him as being rather troublesome to the Dean and 
Chapter, and you told me he was at one of your 
meetings.” 

“ I like the man immensely, though I can’t quite 
understand him yet.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 




“ H’m ! A woman generally has more insight. 
Let me see if I can sum him up. Well, does he 
strike you as a man who is naturally inclined to 
be broad-minded, with a strong touch of humour 
in his composition, but who has lived for many 
years in a narrow groove — an ecclesiastical groove 
— until something happened recently which set him 
thinking — which made him a little bit more human, 
and so he is hardly out of the transition stage yet, 
but will come boldly to the front before long?” 

‘‘ By George, Eleanor ! ” exclaimed Everett 
Horne, “ you’ve put into words just the very feel- 
ing I had about him.” 

She smiled. 

“ I’m right, then, you think ? ” 

Yes, dear ; but I’m a little bit puzzled over some 
rumours about him.” 

“ What rumours ? ” she asked quickly. ‘‘ Who 
has been saying anything about him ? ” 

My uncle.” 

‘^The Dean?” 

“ Yes. Of course he dislikes him, and that may 
account for it. But I’ll tell you. I saw the old boy 
yesterday, and, as usual, he made some nasty re- 
marks about my business and my ‘ Anarchical 
views,' as he chooses to call them. Then he began 
talking about the Canon, pumping me to find out 
what I knew about him.” 

‘‘ In what way? ” 


128 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


"" Well, he knows I go round to Canon Smith’s 
sometimes. He asked whether the Canon ever 
mentioned his recent tour abroad, where he went to, 
and so on.” 

Eleanor was deeply interested. 

‘‘ Go on,” she said. 

Presently I saw something was up, and I asked 
him point blank what he was trying to get out of 
me. He wouldn’t say at first, till I hinted I might 
tell Smith he’d been questioning me about his af- 
fairs. Then he said, in that precise manner of his : 
‘ Well, there is a strange rumour — only a rumour, 
understand — that has reached my ears about the 
Canon’s behaviour when he was abroad early in the 
year. I can’t tell you any more — it’s a confidential 
matter.’ 

‘ Have you mentioned it to him and given him 
a chance of explaining? ’ I asked. 

‘‘ ‘ Well — ahem — not exactly — ^that is, I did ques- 
tion him about his tour abroad, but his answers 
were evasive, peculiarly evasive — and I am afraid 
there must be something in the report.’ ” 

Eleanor leaned back on the bank on which they 
were sitting and laughed heartily. 

Poor Canon Smith ! ” she exclaimed. “ I won- 
der who has been giving him away — not that he’s 
done anything to be ashamed of.” 

“ Do you know anything about it ? ” Everett 
asked in astonishment. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE lg9 


‘‘ My dear, I know the whole story — it’s scream- 
ingly funny. I’ll tell you.” 

And she related the St. Moritz incident, much to 
his amusement. 

“ He had evidently discarded his clerical clothes 
from a sense of freedom,” she said; ‘‘though I 
must say his choice of lay garments was rather a 
striking one.” 

“ He may have borrowed them from a 
friend.” 

“ Very likely. I believe he had come to St. 
Moritz with the idea of enjoying himself quite in- 
nocently, but unshackled. Why shouldn’t he ? 
And he hadn’t been made Canon then, you know% 
I had my shrewd suspicions almost from the first 
that he was a parson — they can’t often disguise 
themselves effectually — but I kept them to myself, 
of course. I confess I enjoyed drawing him out 
and leading him on. Oh, Everett, you ought to 
have seen him as a ‘ Cheshire Cat ’ rolling in the 
snow! ” 

‘‘ I wish I had. Good old Canon Smith ! Ha, 
ha, ha!” 

“ It was my reading the letter from my father to 
Mrs. Findlay at the dinner-table that must have 
frightened him. He realised that I came from 
Frattenbury — and the best of the joke was that the 
letter was about him! He was off by the early 
diligence the next morning.” 


130 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ But,” said Everett, '' I can’t quite understand 
how it is he has not recognised you here? ” 

“He has recognised me! Of course I never 
dreamed of meeting him again as Canon Smith, 
and I often wondered why he left St. Moritz in 
such a hurry. But the instant I set eyes on him 
here — it was at the Millingtons’ — I recognised him. 
Then I saw that he knew me, and I waited to see 
what he would do. It was a situation I enjoyed 
immensely.” 

“ What did he do?” 

“ He was awfully nervous, and I saw at once 
that he was terribly afraid I should know him. I 
suppose he was afraid of what the Close set would 
think of his harmless little escapade; so I pretended 
not to recognise him, and he was so relieved.” 

“ Eleanor, you’re a brick ! ” 

“ Why should I give him away ? I sympathise 
with the man, and I’m sure his pretending to be 
a layman broadened his mind. Thafs why he’s 
coming out so strongly.” 

“ But some one has been gossiping? ” 

“ So it appears. But it’s evidently only a ru- 
mour.” 

“ When he hears of it he’ll suspect you.” 

“ He may — no, somehow I don’t think he will. 
I can’t help it if he does. Well, that’s the whole 
story, Everett.” 

“ So we had better say nothing about it? ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


131 


‘‘Of course. There were no other Frattenbury 
people up at St. Moritz, and Mrs. Findlay is not 
likely to come here. I don’t suppose the Dean really 
knows anything, and the rumour will die out very 
soon.” 

They little knew that the real rumour was a very 
different one, and far worse than they imagined. 
There was one person who was secretly worrying 
over it a great deal, and that was Jane Rutland. 
Every now and then the Miss Millingtons, who 
were terribly perplexed among themselves, would 
drop little hints and innuendoes by which Jane saw 
very clearly that the Canon was suspected in high 
places of some grave impropriety which had hap- 
pened in Mentone. Now, the girl had a very strict 
sense of justice — it was the strongest point of her 
character — and the more she knew of the Canon’s 
work in Frattenbury and the difficult standpoint he 
was beginning to take, the less could she bear to 
think that he was under a cloud, and was hoping 
that there must have been some mistake. If she 
had only known her friend’s address abroad she 
would have written at once, for her own satisfac- 
tion, as well as in the hope of clearing the Canon 
from this mysterious scandal which was hovering 
over his unconscious head in the sacred precincts 
of the Close. She had already discovered that her 
aunts had told the Dean about it, and her instinctive 
dislike for that pompous individual made her sense 


1S2 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


of justice the more acute, especially as the Miss 
Millingtons had extracted her promise not to men- 
tion the matter. 

At length a determination took possession of her. 
It required some courage, and her face turned a 
little pale as she arranged her hat before the glass. 
She sallied forth from her aunt’s house and walked 
through the Close. Her steps became slower as 
she neared the house apportioned to the Canon in 
Residence, and she faltered for a moment or two 
before she opened the gate and made her way up 
to the entrance. Then she rang the bell firmly, and 
set her face to ‘‘ see it through.” 

A middle-aged housekeeper opened the door. 

Is Canon Smith at home ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, Miss.” 

‘‘ Can I see him? ” 

The housekeeper, who had been accustomed at 
Market Shapborough to all sorts and conditions of 
visitors, evinced no surprise, but ushered the girl 
into a stuffy drawing-room, which was evidently 
never used by the bachelor Canon, drew up the 
blinds and went to tell her master. 

He came into the room a minute later, and she 
rose to greet him, a slight blush on her cheek. 

How do you do. Miss Rutland ? ” 

“ How do you do, Canon Smith? ” 

‘‘ Please sit down.” 

There was an awkward pause after they were 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


133 


both seated, during which the Canon waited ex- 
pectantly for the reason of the visit. 

I came to see you ” she began, and hesi- 

tated. 

Certainly. Tell me what I can do for you.’' 

His face was kindly and his manner reassuring. 

I wanted to ask you a question.” 

“ By all means. If I can help you in anything, 
please tell me.” 

You are very kind, but I am afraid you may 
think me inquisitive, or even impertinent.” 

‘‘ No, I’m sure I shall not. Tell me what it is.” 

Well,” she blurted out, coming to the point at 
once, it’s a strange question. Were you in Men- 
tone in the early part of the year? ” 

“ No, certainly not,” he replied, wondering what 
she meant. I’ve never been to Mentone in my 
life.” 

‘‘ Oh ! ” she exclaimed, with a half sigh of relief. 
‘‘Or anywhere in the Riviera?” 

“ I am an utter stranger to the whole district. 
Why do you ask ? ” 

“ I’m very glad,” she murmured ; “ I didn’t think 
you could have been there. It’s of no consequence.” 

She half rose to go, but he stopped her with a 
gesture. 

“ But is that all you wanted to ask me ? ” 

“ Yes. I’m so much obliged to you.” 

“ But,” he said with a little smile, “ I’m afraid I 


134 < 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


don’t quite understand. You wanted me to help 
you about something.” 

‘‘ Oh, not at all — really.” 

** If I had any knowledge of Mentone I might 
have been of some use, perhaps ? ” 

“ No — no — I don’t think so. Thank you so 
much.” 

And she stood up holding out her hand to wish 
him good-bye. 

But why did you ask me such a question ? ” 

She looked at him almost appealingly, her cour- 
age was ebbing a little. 

‘‘Do you mind if I don’t tell you?” she said, 
remembering her promise to her aunts. “ I had a 
reason — indeed, I had. And I’m so very much 
obliged to you. Good afternoon ! ” 

Instinct told him to say no more, and he shook 
hands with her and showed her to the door. On 
the threshold she turned to him for a moment. 

“ Don’t think me absolutely mad,” she exclaimed, 
“ but you’ve eased my mind.” 

He returned to the house wondering at the 
strangeness of the interview. He was feeling in- 
terested in this quiet girl, and, the more he thought 
it over, the more it seemed to him that in some way 
or other her visit had concerned him personally 
more than she cared to say. It puzzled him. 

That evening the subject of Canon Smith’s lapse 
abroad was again raised by the Miss Millingtons. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


135 


‘‘ I wonder, Daisy,*’ said the eldest of the three, 
‘‘ when you will hear again from Mrs. Barrett? ” 

** I think,” broke in Bella, that you ought to 
arrange your correspondence better, Daisy, instead 
of keeping us in suspense.” 

I can’t help it, dear,” replied Daisy; ‘‘ if Katey 
Barrett doesn’t choose to give me her address it 
isn’t my fault.” 

Well, we shall be glad to hear,” said Miss 
Millington; ^Mf there is any truth in this report, it 
ought to be seen to. If there is no truth in it, we 
ought to know. Don’t you think so, Bella? I am 
sure we ought to know,” she added to herself. 

It is too bad of Daisy’s friend to keep us wait- 
ing.” 

Jane looked up quietly from her needlework. 

There is no truth at all in it. Auntie,” she said. 

‘‘ How do you know, dear ? ” — Have you heard 
from Maud Caxton ? I didn’t see a letter from her 
this morning.” — “ Why didn’t you say you’d heard, 
Janey? ” chorused the three spinsters. 

I have not heard. But I know there’s no truth 
in the report — whatever it is.” 

How do you know, dear ? ” 

Because Canon Smith has never been to Men- 
tone — nor anywhere else in the Riviera,” replied 
Jane, half afraid of her own boldness. 

And what right have you to say such a thing, 
Janey?” asked Miss Millington, in a tone half of 


136 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


relief, half of astonishment; '‘who told you he has 
never been to Mentone ? 

“ He told me so himself/’ 

“What?” said Daisy. 

“ When ? ” cried Miss Millington. 

“ How came he to tell you ? ” said Bella, whose 
rasping voice drowned those of her sisters. 

Jane turned to her a little uncomfortably. 

“ I asked him.” 

“ You asked him! ” ejaculated the astounded Miss 
Millington. 

“ You asked him!^' echoed her sisters. 

“ Yes,” said Janey boldly; “ I thought it a shame 
that he should be lying under an accusation if there 
was no truth in it, and — and — I saw him to-day — 
and asked him if he had ever been to Mentone — and 
he hasn’t.” 

The spinsters looked at each other in shocked 
silence which Miss Millington was the first to break. 

“ It was an exceedingly forward and unladylike 
thing to do,” she said stiffly. 

Jane grew very hot. 

“ Not more unladylike than talking about him 
behind his back and not giving him a chance of 
explaining!” she retorted. 

“Jane!” Miss Millington sat bolt upright and 
folded her hands in her lap. “ Jane — you forget 
yourself ! ” 

Jane bit her lip and said nothing. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


137 


** You didn’t tell him what the rumour was, and 
that we were talking about it, I hope ? ” said Bella, 
turning a shade redder. 

I don’t know what the rumour is, and I prom- 
ised you I would say nothing,” replied Jane with 
quiet dignity. 

When she had retired for the night, the Miss 
Millingtons sat up discussing the state of affairs. 

“ Well,” remarked the eldest finally, “ I trtist Jane 
is right.” 

“ I hope so,” said Daisy. 

Nonsense ! ” snapped Bella, after a pause. 

The Dean said he evaded questions. He is only 
prevaricating. It is dreadful ! ” 

And that brought it all on again. 


CHAPTER XI 


Municipal affairs in Frattenbury were the subject 
of much discussion, the greater part of which was 
confined to the subject of the property which was 
owned respectively by the Mayor and the Dean and 
Chapter. For a long time past the City Council had 
been content to pursue the even tenor of its way, and 
had both overawed the Borough Surveyor and dis- 
couraged him from making any complaints against 
the property in question — or, in fact, any property 
which was owned by the individual members of the 
Council or their particular cronies. It was felt that 
Sir Daniel Taylor was a power in the land against 
whom it would be injudicious to take strong meas- 
ures, and that the Dean and Chapter were a body 
who were best left to manage their own business — 
besides which. Sir Daniel and the “ Close set ” 
patronised the shops belonging to the worthy aider- 
men and councillors, and human nature plays a 
strong part where cash-book and ledger are con- 
cerned. 

Of course Everett Horne was a thorn in the 
flesh to the Town Council. He had organised the 

Ratepayers’ Association.” At first the latter was 
pooh-poohed as ridiculous, but it was now begin- 
138 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


139 


ning to take strong root among the good burgesses 
of Frattenbury. At every meeting of the Town 
Council a deputation, headed by Everett Horne and 
armed with note-books, solemnly attended to watch 
and listen to the proceedings. Of course it was not 
lawful for them to make remarks, but, on the other 
hand, it had become- an ordeal for each councillor 
to open his mouth in the presence of these judicial 
witnesses. Hitherto the representatives of the 
Press had been strictly judicious as to what they 
reported, but the pamphlets issued by the Rate- 
payers’ Association contained more accurate ac- 
counts of the Council meetings, and did not spare 
the grammatical blunders of the speakers. 

By degrees, and somewhat to his own astonish- 
ment, Canon Smith had found himself more and 
more in open sympathy with the objects of the As- 
sociation. He had moved, at a meeting of the 
Chapter, that the property belonging to that body 
should be put into thorough sanitary repair, but 
his motion had not been seconded. He had 
preached a powerful sermon on the text, Am I 
my brother’s keeper ? ” at which the Mayor, who 
was seated in the Corporation pew, was highly in- 
dignant. Highest test of all, men who habitually 
looked askance at parsons and sundry members of 
Nonconformist congregations touched their hats to 
the Canon in Residence ” when they met him in 
the street. Canon Smith had grown bold in the 


140 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


assertion of social rights, and only Eleanor Taylor 
and Everett Horne understood the curious process 
by which he had arrived at his conclusions. 

Rice, the tobacconist, saw him crossing the road 
one day from St. Roger’s Gate to his shop. In the 
twinkling of an eye he had jumped on a chair, 
reached down a tin of “ Southern Mixture,” and 
had it standing on the counter by the time the 
Canon was at the door. The latter smiled, as he 
remembered his first purchase. 

“ Good morning. Canon Smith.” 

Good morning,” replied the Canon affably, tak- 
ing out his purse. 

“I suppose you are coming to the meeting?” 
said the tobacconist, jerking his thumb towards one 
of the familiar notices. 

‘‘ Which ? ” asked the Canon drily. 

Rice turned his head to look. There were two 
notices hanging side by side, one of a Ratepayers’ 
meeting, the other of a “ Free Thought ” lecture 
entitled, '‘The Bible a Fraud!” 

He muttered a half apology, and, stepping to the 
notice in question, was on the point of removing it. 

“ Stop,” said the Canon stoutly ; “ I don’t want 
you to do that. I believe in freedom of thought 
myself — although it has never shown me that the 
Bible is a fraud — and I don’t think it’s likely to 
prove that proposition to any really thinking man. 
So I’m not afraid of any notice of that sort.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


14)1 


Well/’ said Rice a little shamefacedly, you 
can’t expect us to believe all the Bible says. I 
don’t w-ant to offend you, but I must be honest.” 

I daresay I have studied the Bible from a 
critical point of view, quite as much as this lec- 
turer,” said the Canon ; “ but, at all events, I am 
glad to see that the Bible has a hold on you, though 
you are strangely inconsistent.” 

‘‘ I don’t quite understand.” 

Why, in placing those two bills side by side. 
One of them announces that the Bible is a fraud, 
while the other contains a notice of a meeting that 
I can only conceive owes its existence to the teach- 
ing of the Bible — the law of love and self-sacrifice 
for the welfare of others. Yes — I certainly hope 
to be present. Good morning.” 

'' Well,” said the tobacconist to himself, he had 
me there! There’s something in what he said.” 

Again he began taking down the ‘‘ Free Thought ” 
notice, when he suddenly caught sight of the Dean 
emerging from St. Roger’s Gate. 

He waited in expectancy, and enjoyed the situa- 
tion immensely when he marked how the Dean 
glanced at both notices and frowned spontaneously. 
Then when the objectionable dignitary had passed, 
he took the placard down and tore it in pieces. 

The meeting of the Ratepayers’ Association was 
held that evening, and the Canon, as he had prom- 
ised, was there. He took his seat near the front 


142 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


of the room, prepared to act as a listener. The 
hall was filled to its full extent with men whose 
faces proclaimed that they were set on business, 
for notice had been given that a very important 
resolution was to be moved. 

A stamping of feet and a clapping of hands 
announced the entrance of the Chairman and Com- 
mittee, and the latter slowly made their way up the 
centre of the hall from the room at the back where 
they had assembled, Everett Horne leading the way. 

As he drew near the platform he noticed the 
familiar figure of Canon Smith. A sudden impulse 
seized him, and going up and laying his hand on 
his shoulder, he said: 

“ Won’t you come on the platform. Canon 
Smith?” 

Oh, thank you. Really, I am only here as a 
spectator.” 

“ Do come ! We should be so glad to have you 
among us — supporting us.” 

‘‘If you really wish it? ” 

“ Most certainly I do.” 

Whereupon the Canon heroically mounted the 
platform, a voice from the back of the room call- 
ing out : 

“ Bravo, parson ! ” 

He felt a little nervous at first as he watched 
the sea of faces in front of him, accustomed as he 
was to audiences and congregations. He realised 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 143 


the enormous power of these men, banded together 
in united action, and the Chairman’s opening re- 
marks fell unheeded upon his ear. 

He was thinking out a problem. What was the 
motive that had called these men together ? It 
was something deeper than the spirit of fighting, 
though that had its part in the work. It was the 
spirit of justice and fair play, so dear to an English- 
man’s heart. It was an altruistic spirit also. Only 
a minority of those present had anything personal 
to be gained in the question immediately before 
them. On the contrary, many of them were in 
danger of being losers; but they would not suffer 
injustice to others. Some time ago he had read 
a paper at a clerical meeting, deploring the scanty 
attendance of the male sex at church, and had com- 
plained that men were indifferent to the influences 
of religion. And yet he remembered telling Rice 
that very morning that it was a distinctly Christian 
influence which was at work convening the present 
meeting. This was true. Surely there was an 
inference which was hard to face, and which, never- 
theless, he was beginning to acknowledge. If a dis- 
tinctly Christian influence could bring together such 
a meeting as this for a purely altruistic purpose, 
there was something lacking in the methods of 
ecclesiasticism, and that something was the attrac- 
tion of practical Christian ethics. 

The truth was gripping him. Christian ethics 


144 ! 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


were something more, or ought to be something 
more, than a pulpit commentary on the Sermon on 
the Mount. 

“ I will call upon Mr. Groves,” said the Chairman, 
to move a Resolution. I have already explained 
to you that the Town Council has refused to act 
upon our suggestion, and it is time that we com- 
menced a stronger attack than ever. The Resolu- 
tion, if passed, wdll be forw^arded to the Town Clerk, 
and the Committee of Sanitary Supervision will 
have ample time to embody it in their report for the 
consideration of the next Council meeting. It is 
this : ‘ That this meeting of the citizens of Fratten- 

bury considers it a duty to lay the sanitary condition 
of certain parts of the city before the Local Gov- 
ernment Board, if immediate action is not taken for 
the rectifying of the same by the Town Council.’ ” 

An outburst of cheering greeted this announce- 
ment, during which the mover of the Resolution 
stood up, prepared to speak. 

As soon as he had begun, Everett Horne scribbled 
something on a bit of paper, folded it and handed 
it to his neighbour, with a whispered request to 
pass it to Canon Smith. When the latter opened 
it he read these words: ‘‘Will you speak to the 
Resolution when it has been seconded?” 

The Canon thought for a minute. He had gone 
much further than he had intended already. But 
the enthusiasm of the meeting w'as upon him, and. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


145 


setting his lips together, he wrote “ Yes ” on the 
paper and sent it back to the Chairman. 

In a short time the latter was on his feet, an- 
nouncing “ Canon Smith.” 

There was a silence as the Canon rose to speak, 
a silence of expectancy. His speech was quite 
short and to the point, quiet and dignified. He be- 
gan by saying that he acquiesced in the Resolution 
on moral grounds, and not from any party spirit; 
that he had had opportunity of seeing for himself 
that this particular reform was needed, and that, 
although being only a three-monthly resident in the 
year among them, he could hardly claim the honour 
of being a burgess, still he was free to speak as a 
representative of the Church, ‘‘ a body that should 
be forward in taking up any cause for the ethical 
as well as the spiritual welfare of the community.” 
Many of those present had no clear notion as to the 
meaning of the word “ ethical,” but grasped the 
sentiment implied, and shouted “ Hear, hear ! ” with 
the rest. 

He carefully refrained from alluding to any 
action he had taken in the Chapter, and concluded 
by saying: ‘‘ I am not an advocate of strong meas- 
ures, except in cases of urgent necessity. But in 
this instance it certainly appears to me that if those 
who are appointed by the public vote are dilatory 
in dealing with questions that are justly raised by 
a number of their fellow-citizens, it is only reason- 


146 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


able to appeal to a higher court having power to 
enquire into the matter with a view to the right 
adjustment of the same. Therefore, both as a 
representative of the Church and as a private in- 
dividual, I support the Resolution, at all events with 
my opinion, and should be very willing, if it lay in 
my power, to further the action of this Associa- 
tion.” 

The pressmen stopped their shorthand scribbling 
as the Canon sat down, astonished at the applause 
produced by his speech. Everett Horne was de- 
lighted. It was just the calm, deliberate summing- 
up that was needed to give weight to an excited 
discussion, and he felt he had well judged his man 
in calling upon him to speak. 

No sooner was the Canon seated than a little man 
on the other side of the platform sprang up and 
waited to be heard. He wore an ill-fitting, semi- 
clerical black coat, reaching far below his knees. 
He had on a very large white tie, tied in an awk- 
ward bow, his beard was long and straggling, and 
his hair parted in the middle and pressed down upon 
his head on either side. His left hand clutched the 
collar of his coat firmly, his right was stretched 
forth in studied gesture, the large fingers belonging 
to it wide apart. When silence was restored the 
Chairman stood up for a moment to announce : 

‘‘ The Reverend Ezra Clutterbuck.” 

‘‘ Mr. Chairman and dear friends,” said the rev- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


147 


erend gentleman in question, in a voice that was oily 
in the low notes and grating in the higher tones 
with which he finished each sentence, “ I feel it my 
duty to express my admiration and thanks for the 
speech to which I have just listened. Coming as it 
does from a minister of the Establishment it has 
taken me by surprise. Especially when we remem- 
ber that the Dean and his clergy have stubbornly 
refused*’ — (“Order, order!”) — “well, have kept 
aloof from the social welfare of the city — it is a 
source of pleasure to me to think that Canon Smith 
has so bravely helped us in the teeth of the indiffer- 
ence shown by the leaders of the Church to which 
he belongs. Gentlemen, I hope the Dean and other 
clergy of the Establishment in Frattenbury will take 
a lesson from the conduct of Canon Smith. I am 
proud to be on the same platform with him. I wel- 
come him as a friend and brother.” 

If anything was wanted to crown the indignation 
of the Dean it was the reading of this speech in the 
local paper the next morning. His wrath against 
the worthy Canon knew no bounds, and he regarded 
his action as a personal affront to himself. He 
called upon Sir Daniel Taylor to consult him in 
the matter, and found the Mayor also furious over 
the report of the meeting. 

“ Really, Mr. Dean,” he said, “ what with your 
nephew and this firebrand Canon of yours, we are 
likely to find ourselves in a pretty mess.” 


148 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


‘‘ I know, I know. It is absolutely preposterous. 
I never heard of such a state of things. What is 
to be done ? ” 

“ Well — er — I hardly know. It is really ex- 
tremely awkward. For the peace of the city it is 
hardly advisable to allow them to carry their threat 
to extremes and risk a Local Government enquiry.” 

“ You think not? ” asked the Dean. 

‘‘ That is my private opinion,” replied Sir Daniel. 

Of course it means a heavy expenditure on my 
part, but I am prepared to make sacrifices for the 
good of the community — if need be.” 

He spoke magnanimously. 

‘‘ And you are of opinion, Sir Daniel, that the 
outcome of such an enquiry would necessitate ex- 
penditure on the part of the Chapter? ” 

The Dean knew very well that in order to put the 
property into repair certain nice little pickings 
would have to be sacrificed. 

“ My dear Mr. Dean, in this age of Radical 
absolutism — for that is what it amounts to — it is 
sometimes wiser, and — ahem — cheaper — and at all 
events more graceful, to provide improvements to 
any property before one is compelled to do so. I 
fear this will be the case — strictly entre nous” 

The Dean shook his head sadly. 

“ It is ridiculous, in my opinion,” he said. 

I quite agree with you. But,” he added as an 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


149 


after- thought, “ one can always raise the rent when 
the value of the property is increased.” 

“ Ah,” replied the Dean thoughtfully, “ true ! 
That would only be common justice.” 

‘‘ At all events,” went on Sir Daniel, ‘‘ I shall 
have made up my mind as to what is the best course 
of action before the next Council meeting, and,” he 
added pompously, ‘‘ I think they will listen to me 
there and be guided by my advice. But this Canon 
Smith — he has, in my opinion, quite outstepped the 
bounds of propriety and gone outside his posi- 
tion.” 

‘‘ I know, I know,” replied the Dean sorrowfully. 
“ It is most annoying to me. You read that fellow 
Clutterbuck’s speech ? ” 

I did.” 

“ Canon Smith ought to feel downright humili- 
ated. To be patronised by a Dissenter, and to listen 
to a flagrant attack on the Church! He ought to 
have had the good taste to have left the platform 
instantly.” 

‘‘ He ought never to have been there,” said Sir 
Daniel. 

‘‘ I perfectly agree with you.” 

Can you not restrain him ? ” 

What can I do? ” 

“ Surely, Mr. Dean, you have some hold over 
your subordinates ? ” 


150 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


The Dean looked uncomfortable. He pinched his 
lower lip with his finger and thumb and tapped his 
glasses on the Mayor’s table. 

‘‘ Well — er — in confidence, Sir Daniel, I believe 
I have. But I hesitate to use it. Have you — er — 
heard any rumours of any kind about Canon 
Smith?” 

Sir Daniel thought a moment. 

“ Ah ! ” he exclaimed, ‘‘ now you mention it, I 
remember overhearing some remark about him at 
Westhorpe’s dinner the other night — some vague 
rumour.” 

“ Exactly ! ” said the Dean ; ‘‘ but I think I may 
say that the rumour is perhaps hardly a vague one. 
The truth is,” and he lowered his voice, ‘‘ I have 
reasons for believing that Canon Smith, on a recent 
tour on the Continent, behaved in a manner quite 
out of place with the position of a clergyman. I 
would rather not give you the details — they were 
told me in confidence.” 

Dear me!^* said the Mayor, elevating his eye- 
brows, and with certain youthful reminiscences in 
his mind. “ Was it in Paris ? ” 

No.” 

Paris is a wicked city,” rejoined Sir Daniel 
sententiously and virtuously ; I thought it might 
have been there.” 

It was not there, but I am not at liberty to say 
more.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 151 

" Is he aware that you know of his — er — weak- 
nesses ? ” 

‘‘ I think not.’’ 

You are not absolutely certain? 

“ Not absolutely/' 

Sir Daniel pondered for a few moments, then he 
said: 

'' Of course, I quite understand that for the sake 
of the Church it is advisable not to make the 
scandal, if there is one, public — you yourself, Mr. 
Dean, will admit the wisdom of the serpent in such 
a matter; but, if I may presume to advise ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

‘‘ I think, if I were you, I should feel justified in 
making use of my knowledge, privately and — er — 
only to him, if necessity obliged me. I mean, here 
is a man, setting — for so I consider it — authority 
at defiance, acting, in your Chapter meetings, in a 
revolutionary manner, interfering with the — ahem 
— law and order of the city, and stirring up strife in 
purely secular circles ; and, being a Church dignitary, 
he is a man whose opinions and actions carry 
weight and influence. The question is, how far 
will he go? Now, it seems to me, if you have a 
hold upon him, it is quite consistent with your duty 
to check him in his foolishness.” 

You — you advise me to threaten him. Sir Dan- 
iel?” 

Er — not exactly that. But, in the event of any 


152 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


further trouble, you might hint to him — and in a 
purely friendly manner — that you possess informa- 
tion which might tend to damage his reputation; 
and — er — well, it might lead to an understanding 
between you. Don’t you think so ? ” 

The Dean rose from his seat and adjusted his 
glasses in silence. He saw the point very clearly, 
but, somehow, he did not feel inclined to talk it 
over further. 

I am very much obliged to you. Sir Daniel,” 
he said, taking his leave ; ‘‘ and you will let me 
know what you intend to lay before the Council ? ” 
I will let you know — certainly, Mr. Dean.” 
Meanwhile the Canon was blissfully ignorant of 
this Damocles’ sword of rumour which was hanging 
over his devoted head. He knew, of course, that 
the line he had taken was not likely to meet with 
the approval of his fellows in the Close, but he was 
so thoroughly determined by this time that he was 
right, that he was content to face the disagreeable 
side of events. He regretted, naturally, the tone 
of the Dissenting minister’s speech, but he felt that 
he, at all events, was not responsible for it. 

As for folks knowing about the St. Moritz inci- 
dent, he had dismissed all thoughts of that. Cer- 
tainly he did not feel exactly at his ease upon the 
occasion when he met with Eleanor Taylor, al- 
though he had perfectly persuaded himself that she 
had never recognised him. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


153 


More than once he found himself wondering 
about Jane Rutland’s visit, and the curious question 
she had asked him ; and the more he thought over it, 
the more he felt convinced that it was for some 
reason connected with himself that she had come 
to see him. He found himself beginning to take an 
interest in the girl; her quiet, sympathetic manner 
attracted him, and he discovered several reasons for 
calling upon the Miss Millingtons. 

The latter were in a state of unrest concerning 
the Canon. There were times when they almost 
felt that they ought to order James to say Not 
at home ” whenever he called. And yet, not one 
of them would have willingly missed seeing him. 

If only they could definitely clear up the mystery 
with which that wretched letter had encircled him ! 


CHAPTER XII 


One sometimes wonders whether the old Normans 
who laid the foundations of our great cathedrals — 
sparing neither time, expense, nor labour in the 
building of mighty pillars and solid arches — ever 
dreamed that the day would come when their work 
would be rattled off by an attendant verger to a 
small crowd anxiously pretending to know some- 
thing of architecture, each of whom is duly con- 
fronted with a glaring notice stating that Visitors 
are requested to put at least sixpence into this box.” 

On second thoughts, however, one is sure that 
the old Norman builders did not so forecast the 
upward tendencies of the evolution of society; for 
if they had done so, surely they would have flung 
mallet and chisel and plumbet to the ground in 
disgust. For, somehow or other, it appears that 
they imagined they were erecting something to the 
glory of the Supreme Being, and were not giving 
the best of their craft in order that it might be said : 

This is generally considered to be the boldest 
portion of the ’ole hedderfice. This pillar measures 
forty-two feet three hinches in circumference, and is 
hunequalled as a specimen of hearly Norman work. 
154 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


155 


Pass hoii, please ; there’s another party waitin’ to go 
round before Service.” 

When we erect a building nowadays to the glory 
of the Supreme Being, we generally employ an 
architect who has done something in town halls or 
other objects of utility. We limit his imagination, 
because imagination is often expensive, and then 
we invite tenders for the execution of his plans. 
The cheapest contract is signed, and up goes a 
structure of red and yellow brick, and the Bishop 
of the Diocese opens it with a sermon on worship- 
ping God “ in the beauty of holiness,” and after- 
wards, at the public luncheon, expresses his grati- 
tude to the local millionaire — who has previously 
done great things in pork, or shipping, or something 
— for so nobly heading the list of subscribers ‘‘ with 
his munificent donation of five hundred pounds.” 

If the hunequalled specimen of hearly Norman 
work ” could go forth from the cathedral he helped 
to support and inspect these modern edifices, how 
would he exclaim! 

At least there is one thing in which he would take 
comfort. He would say : 

Well, they will never be able to exhibit ‘ Vis- 
itors are expected to put at least sixpence into this 
box,’ there/' 

Frattenbury Cathedral was no exception to the 
general rule. The nave was open to the public, the 
said public being requested by a notice on the door 


156 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ not to walk about during Divine Service.” This 
is a strange request to see in a Christian country 
where not many Buddhists or Mohammedans or 
other ‘‘ heathens ” are likely to visit cathedrals. It 
may be, however, that the Englishman has an in- 
grained notion that it is his privilege so to do. At 
all events, one may constantly see him exercising 
this privilege on the Continent, even if he is re- 
quested to keep it in abeyance at home. 

Under this restriction, then, the nave of Fratten- 
bury Cathedral was free. But across the entrance 
to each transept was an iron gate, barring the way 
to the beauties beyond, with a printed legend on one 
of the gates as thus — 

The Verger in attendance conducts Visitors round 
this portion of the Cathedral, except between the 
hours of One and Two.” 

From which it is to be inferred that the verger, 
like other men, indulged in a midday meal. 

Immediately inside this gate stood a desk, with a 
book for the recording of visitors^ names, together 
with a box and the notice about the sixpence. 

It was just on the stroke of one, and the verger 
in attendance had hurried his party out of the iron 
gate and locked it, not without informing them that 
the Cathedral was closed altogether as soon as the 
clock struck. He then went round the nave, to clear 
that particular part, and finally went out of the 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


157 


Cathedral altogether, locking the door and leaving 
the building empty. 

He was a man of about five-and-thirty, with a 
pale, anxious-looking face and sunken dark eyes. 
He seemed, as he walked home with downcast head, 
to have something in his mind that was worrying 
him. 

Five minutes after he had left the Cathedral the 
door opened again, and the Dean and Canon Smith 
entered, the former carrying his bunch of private 
keys. 

“ I think,” he said, ‘‘ we shall find the papers I 
spoke of in my vestry. It won’t take us long to 
look through them, and you don’t lunch till half- 
past one, I believe ? ” 

I’m quite at your service,” replied the Canon. 

The Dean had locked the door on the inside as 
he came into the Cathedral. He next, with another 
key, opened the iron gate leading into the transept, 
and mechanically closed and locked it when they had 
passed through. 

He paused for a moment before the desk with the 
Visitors’ Book, and glanced at the list of names. 

“ Quite a number of people have gone round this 
morning,” he mused, “ and a very large number last 
week. H’m, it’s strange ! ” 

'"What is strange, Mr. Dean?” asked Canon 
Smith. 

"Well — er — to tell you the truth, I have been 


158 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


rather troubled the last week or two. Mind, I men- 
tion this in strict confidence. The fact is, that 
although the number of visitors to the Cathedral 
has been greatly in excess of that of the same time 
last year, the amount collected in the box has fallen 
off to a very large extent.’^ 

Ah,’’ replied the Canon, “ no doubt many of the 
visitors shirk their little responsibility in spite of 
the notice.” 

I have begun to think it is not exactly 
said the Dean mysteriously. 

‘‘Why? — I don’t quite understand.” 

“ I haven’t the key of the box in my pocket at 
this moment, but if I had, I should feel strongly 
inclined to count the money now.” 

“ And compare it with the number of visitors? ” 

“No. I should rather compare it with the 
amount I found in it, say, this evening. And,” he 
went on more mysteriously than ever, “ I should not 
be surprised if I found less then than I should 
now.” 

“ Good gracious ! ” exclaimed the Canon, “ surely 
you don’t suspect some one of stealing it? ” 

“ I’m afraid I do,” replied the Dean. 

“Who?” 

“ Well,” said the Dean, as they walked across the 
transept to the vestry, “of course it is only a sus- 
picion, but Blake is the person who has best means 
of access to the box.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


159 


“ Really,” replied Canon Smith, “ I should be 
very sorry to suspect one of the vergers, and I 
trust your surmises are not correct. Have you 
said anything to him?” 

‘‘ No,” said the Dean ; I do not think it would 
be wise to do that. But it has occurred to me that 
one might make enquiries about him, or even watch 
him, or take some steps to ascertain whether he 
tampers with the box.” 

The Canon reddened slightly. The idea was 
repulsive to him, and, somehow, he found it go 
against his innate sense of justice. 

‘‘ Oh,” he said. I don’t think I should do that, 
if I were you. It seems so very like playing the 
part of a detective. Why not tell him that there 
is a falling off in the money? It seems only fair 
to give him a warning.” 

“ Thank you,” retorted the Dean with ill-con- 
cealed asperity ; “ that may be your opinion, but I 
am at liberty to possess one of my own. Here are 
the papers we came to see.” 

The Canon looked at him sharply and in some 
surprise. It was the first time the Dean had lost 
his temper in his presence and betrayed his dis- 
like of him. Not another word was said on the 
subject of the money, and they spent some minutes 
in going over some business matters connected with 
the Chapter. 

The Dean’s vestry, in which they were standing 


160 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


together, looked out on the transept, and the door 
stood open. It was on the side directly opposite 
the Visitors’ Book and offertory box. Suddenly 
the Dean laid a hand on his companion’s shoulder. 

“ Listen ! ” he said ; “ what was that ? ” 

Some one was opening the outer door of the 
Cathedral, and steps were heard immediately after- 
wards. 

“ Strange ! ” said the Dean ; I know I locked 
it.” 

The next moment they heard the clang of the 
iron gate, and saw Blake, the verger, come into the 
transept. 

They were standing side by side at the open door 
of the vestry, the Dean with his hand still on his 
companion’s shoulder. Blake did not even glance 
in their direction, feeling sure there was no one but 
himself in the Cathedral. 

‘‘ S — sh ! ” whispered the Dean very softly, and 
gripping the other’s arm more firmly. Again 
Canon Smith felt himself reddening with the over- 
whelming sense that he was acting the spy. Blake 
drew what apparently w^as a key from his pocket. 

Then the Canon took out his handkerchief and 
blew his nose vehemently. He felt the Dean almost 
shake him in anger, and he heard him give vent 
to an angry exclamation. 

The next moment Blake was fumbling at the 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


161 


visitors’ desk, and the Dean was striding rapidly 
across the transept. 

“ What are you doing here, Blake ? ” 

I left my spectacles on the desk, sir,” replied 
Blake, looking extremely uncomfortable, and 
came back here to get them.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed the Dean, who was almost 
speechless with rage, ‘‘ is that what you came for ? ” 
Yes, sir,” said the man, recovering his com- 
posure the more the Dean fumed. Shall I lock 
the door when I go out, sir?” 

Half-a-dozen different sentences flashed across 
the Dean’s mind, but he gave vent to none of them. 
He saw that the Canon had purposely destroyed all 
vestige of the proof he wanted at one blow — of his 
nose. Finally he contented himself with adminis- 
tering a sharp rebuke. 

You have no business in the Cathedral at this 
hour, as you know very well. Lock the door when 
you go, and don’t let this occur again.” 

No, sir,” replied the man, but I didn’t think 
there was any harm in fetching my spectacles. I 
can’t read without them. Very sorry, sir, I’m 
sure.” 

He had entirely recovered himself now, and 
walked away quite calmly. He saw there was no 
possible proof of his crime. But he wondered, as 
he went, why the Canon blew his nose. He knew 


162 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


it was the Canon, because he had turned and seen 
him. 

Meanwhile the Dean strode back across the 
transept, his tall gaunt form drawn up to its full 
height, his lips white with anger. The Canon stood 
at the vestry door, waiting to receive the storm 
which he felt was about to burst. 

I must say I think it was a most uncalled-for 
action on your part to give Blake warning that we 
were here,” began the Dean; I observed that you 
did it purposely.” 

“ Yes,” retorted the Canon, who felt quite on his 
mettle, I certainly did it purposely, as you say.” 

‘‘ And may I ask why ? ” enquired the Dean, pale 
with anger. 

“ Because I have a distinct objection to being a 
spy. I consider it would have been more in accord 
with one’s office to have taken an open and kindly 
line, and so to have given the man a chance of re- 
trieving his character before it was too late.” 

‘‘You presume to dictate to me!^* 

“ That is my fixed opinion.” 

“ I shall bring the matter before the Chapter. 
The whole thing was most palpable, and had you 
not interfered, we should have been eye-witnesses 
of the crime.” 

“ That is just what I preferred not to be,” re- 
torted the Canon ; “ nor do I think it at all necessary 
to trouble the Chapter about it. I have every con- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


163 


fidence that whatever Blake may have done it is 
not likely to be repeated. He has had a salutary 
warning, perhaps, and that is enough.^’ 

'' It is not enough,” cried the Dean. “ Blake 
must be dismissed, and the Chapter shall do it.” 

There is no evidence against him, and I shall 
object to any such action.” 

“You — you will object, will you?” retorted the 
Dean, who was losing his dignity. 

“ Most certainly. Dismissal without proof 
would be unjust.” 

“ Then I may as well tell you. Canon Smith, that 
I am beginning to tire of your — ^your insubordina- 
tion.” 

“ Indeed ! ” replied the Canon, drawing himself 
up. “ Please to recollect that I have every right to 
do and say what I please with regard to the Chap- 
ter, and that although you, as Dean, are the presi- 
dent of the body, you have only an equal voting 
power with the rest of us. The question of sub- 
ordination is entirely beside the mark.” 

“ Pray let me tell you,” said the Dean, whose 
anger had now reached its highest pitch, “ that I 
consider your conduct ever since your coming to 
Frattenbury to be most obnoxious — most obnoxious. 
You know very well to what I refer, and I will add, 
for your own sake, that I warn you against going 
any further in your defiance of my wishes and au- 
thority.” 


164 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“What do you mean?” asked the astonished 
Canon. 

“ I would fain avoid a public scandal, but it may 
be as well for you to know that I am in possession 
of certain knowledge about you that, if publicly 
known, would seriously affect your reputation.” 

“ I am at a loss to comprehend you, Mr. 
Dean.” 

“ I refer,” said the latter slowly and venomously, 
“ to your extraordinary behaviour abroad in the 
early part of this year. The facts have been laid 
before me.” 

For a moment or two Canon Smith held his 
breath, as what he thought was the truth flashed 
across him. Then he faced the position bravely and 
calmly. It was unfortunate. He would rather it 
had never leaked out, but, as it was, he was cer- 
tainly not going to put up with threats. 

“ Whatever I may have done abroad,” he said 
quietly, “ is my own affair.” 

“You don’t deny it, then?” cried the Dean. 

“ I have no desire to deny anything. I have a 
perfect right to act as I think proper.” 

“ Your conduct was disgraceful ! ” 

“ I beg to differ. I have done nothing of which 
I am ashamed.” 

“ I regret you have the effrontery to say so.” 

“ It may possibly, to a man of your views, appear 
strange, but ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


165 


“ Strange ? Scandalous ! — a disgrace to the cloth 
you wear ! ” 

A fleeting vision of the check suit flashed before 
the Canon’s mind, and brought a vestige of a smile 
to his lips as he replied: 

Not at all. Very many clergymen are in the 
habit of doing exactly what I did when on the 
Continent. It is a common practice — as you must 
know.” 

A vision of Monte Carlo gaming-tables, and 
Canon Smith imbibing tumblers of champagne, was 
in the Dean’s mind, and he was more horror-struck 
than ever. 

You appear to be utterly devoid of any sense of 
shame,” he said frigidly. I can only say that I 
consider your conduct undignified and scandalous, 
and that only a strong sense of the evil that would 
accrue to the Church — particularly in this city — ■ 
has prevented me from consulting the Bishop and 
begging him to institute a formal enquiry. As it 
is, I have warned you, and I am not prepared to 
say that I shall stop there.” 

The Canon actually laughed! 

You may tell the Bishop whatever you please,” 
he replied, and I really haven’t the slightest objec- 
tion to any one knowing all my movements abroad. 
I am certainly not going to be withheld from per- 
forming my duty by any threats on your part ; and if 
you attempt to coerce the Chapter to dismiss Blake, 


166 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


I shall oppose you strongly. And now, as my lunch 
is a hot one, I think I will ask you to kindly produce 
your keys and allow me to go home to it.^’ 

The Dean and the Canon walked back to their 
respective residences by different routes. The 
former was greatly disturbed in mind, divided be- 
tween anger at the Canon’s defiance, and horror at 
what he rather naturally considered his utter lack 
of the moral sense. During the seven years he 
had been Dean of Frattenbury he had never been 
more deeply annoyed and shocked. The Bishop 
was away on a well-earned holiday of a month, 
or he would probably have called and laid the 
case before him that afternoon. So he took coun- 
sel with his wife — as he would have done in any 
case — and she advised him to keep matters to him- 
self for the present. 

‘‘ The brazen-faced man! ” she exclaimed, jerking 
her head forward; I never heard of such a thing 
in my life. But he shan’t come to the Deanery. 
And he shan’t take me into dinner again at the 
Archdeacon’s or anywhere else — and I won’t even 
shake hands with him 1 It would be contaminating.” 

As for the Canon, he pondered over matters while 
eating his lonely lunch. He was justly indignant 
with the Dean, and it would not be true to say that 
he was not a little put out. He was perfectly aware, 
in thinking things over, that the St. Moritz escapade 
was, after all, only a trivial matter, and that he had 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 167 


not done the slightest harm; but he had hoped that 
it would never have come out, and he had been at 
ease on this score ever since Eleanor Taylor had 
met him without recognising him. 

When he thought about Eleanor Taylor he felt 
rather foolish. If the Dean carried out his threat 
and made the affair public, how would he pose 
in her eyes? He could not say that he had not 
recognised her, and she would look upon him as 
having been ashamed of himself. So he had been, 
at the time, but now he was beginning to see that it 
would have been the wisest policy to have referred 
to their previous meeting naturally. The mistake 
he had made was the running away from St. 
Moritz; that was evident. 

A sudden thought struck him. Perhaps Eleanor 
Taylor had recognised him since that meeting at 
the Miss Millingtons and had talked about it. That 
was a very possible solution of the Dean’s knowl- 
edge. He felt more uncomfortable still as he dwelt 
upon this aspect of affairs. Nevertheless, he was 
on his mettle, and determined to take an honest 
stand whatever might happen. Finally, by an ef- 
fort of will he dismissed the subject, and sat down 
to write the next chapter of his book. 

Evensong at the Cathedral was at four o’clock. 
The dignitaries always robed in their own houses 
and walked to the Cathedral, each preceded by a 
verger carrying his silver wand of office. At a 


168 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


quarter to four the Canon’s verger rang the bell 
and entered the hall to wait. 

The Canon put on his cassock, surplice, hood, and 
scarf, which were hanging on a peg in the study, 
took his college cap in his hand and entered the hall. 
The particular verger in attendance upon him was 
Blake. Usually that functionary opened the door 
in silence and stalked solemnly out before the 
Canon. To-day he hesitated. 

“ Beg pardon, sir,” he began. 

“Well, Blake, what is it?” 

“ Em very much obliged to you, sir,” said the 
man, looking down at his boots. 

“ What for ? ” asked the Canon. 

“ I think you know, sir,” said the verger in a low 
tone. 

The Canon was equal to the occasion. 

“ Have you anything to give me ? ” he said very 
quietly, holding out his hand — “ anything for which 
you feel you have no further use ? ” 

Blake turned very white, and slowly put his hand 
iu his pocket. 

“ I never want to see it again, sir,” he said huskily, 
as he gave the Canon a small key. “ God bless you, 
sir ! — God bless you ! ” 

“ Go on, please,” said the Canon sharply, “ or we 
shall be late.” 

Then Blake opened the door. Up went the silver 
wand at an acute angle, the Canon put on his cap. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 169 


and they started on their solemn little walk to the 
Cathedral. 

Service over, the Canon went for a long walk in 
the country. Northward of Frattenbury was a 
chain of downs, and thither he wended his way. 
A pathway up the hill led him through a small 
wood of pines and larches, and a turn in the 
path suddenly brought him face to face with 
Everett Horne and Eleanor Taylor, who were 
walking arm-in-arm. He was astonished to meet 
them thus, but they greeted him with perfect 
equanimity. 

‘‘ What a lovely evening ! ’’ said Eleanor. 

“ Isn’t it? And this is a charming walk.” 

“ Makes you almost want to be a kid again and 
gather bluebells, eh ? ” said Everett, striking at a 
bunch of those flowers with his stick. 

A few words of general conversation passed, and 
then Eleanor said: 

“ I always love these woods.” 

‘‘ They remind me,” replied the Canon, with a 
desperate effort, and looking straight at her, “ they 
remind me of the Unter Alpina walk — in the 
Engadine.” 

“ Oh, you have been at St. Moritz, have you, 
Canon Smith ? ” replied Eleanor, looking at him 
without a ruffle, while Everett turned his head away 
and studied the bluebells earnestly. ‘‘ Yes, as you 
say, there is a resemblance — only I have been there 


170 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


in the winter, and the larches were bare then. 
Charming place, isn’t it ? ” 

“Very,” replied the Canon, retreating because 
there was no counter-attack. “ Well — you are go- 
ing back to Frattenbury, I suppose? I mean to 
walk on to Sefton and take the train home.” 

“ We won’t keep you, then. Good-bye.” 

“Didn’t I dissemble splendidly, Everett?” asked 
Eleanor, three minutes later ; “ he was so nearly put- 
ting his foot in it.” 

“ Close shave. I didn’t dare look at him. 
Whatever made him give vent to such a remark ? ” 

“ Mere nervousness, dear,” replied Eleanor. “ It 
was the very subject he wanted most to avoid. I 
remember once dining with Jews, and for the life of 
me I couldn’t help mentioning money-lenders.” 

“ It was neat of you making him think that you 
were under the impression he had been at St. Moritz 
in the summer.” 

“ Wasn’t it? Poor Canon Smith! He’s terribly 
afraid I shall remember him ! ” 

And Canon Smith was saying to himself as he 
walked on : “ That settles it, then. She hasn’t 

recognised me. Well, evidently the Dean didn’t 
get his information there. It is strange. But if 
it all comes out what am I to say to her? It’s 
very awkward.” 

“ Dear me I ” he went on, “ those two appear to 
have a very close understanding. I wonder what 
Sir Daniel thinks of it I ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


Some seven miles from Frattenbury, as the crow 
flies, is the little seaside town of Selgate, but in 
order to reach it by rail a somewhat devious route 
via Foxby Junction is necessary. A day or two 
after his stormy interview with the Dean, Canon 
Smith found himself at Frattenbury Station, taking 
a ticket to Selgate, where he had been invited to 
lunch with an old friend who was spending a week 
or two there. 

On the platform was Jane Rutland, studying the 
illustrated papers on the bookstall. Presently she 
turned and found herself face to face with the 
Canon. A word or two of greeting passed between 
them, and then the train came in. 

Let me find you a carriage,” said the Canon, 
seeing she was about to travel ; what class ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, third. Thank you very much.” 

He pocketed the blue ticket he was holding in 
his hand, lest its colour should betray a superior 
class, opened the door of a third-class compait- 
ment, and followed her in. 

‘‘ Are you going far ? ” 

Only to Selgate, though it takes quite a long 


172 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

time to get there by this train. One has almost 
half an hour to wait at Foxby.” 

I’m going to Selgate, myself,” he replied 
genially ; it’s my first visit there, and I’m quite 
looking forward to a breath of sea air. You know 
I’m quite a stranger to this part of the country.” 

“ It’;s a very pretty part, isn’t it ? ” she said, 
glancing out of the window at the downs in the 
near distance. ‘‘ I haven’t lived at Frattenbury 
long, you know, but I’ve grown very fond of the 
surrounding country.” 

Where did you live before you came here ? ” 

‘‘ At Maplestone — till my father’s death last 
year.” 

“ Dear me ! ” replied the Canon, with a sudden 
burst of interest, I have thought several times 
your name was somehow familiar to me. Surely 
it must have been your father, then, who was Pro- 
fessor of History at Maplestone College?” 

Yes ; he was there for a great many years.” 

'' It ought to have struck me before. I can’t say 
I knew your father very well — in fact, I only met 
him once — but I had a good deal of correspondence 
with him from time to time, and he helped me very 
materially when I was writing an historical book.” 

“ The ‘ Frankfort Controversies,’ I believe,” she 
said with a smile. 

Ah, I see you remember.” 

“ Oh yes, I remember quite well. You see, I 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


173 


really had quite an interest in your book, Canon 
Smith. I used to write at my father’s dictation. I 
hope my handwriting was clear enough for you to 
follow.” 

Now, how very interesting ! ” he said ; ‘‘ I have 
several of those letters still. I must really thank 
you very much for your share in the work, but I’m 
afraid you must have found some of it very dry.” 

Oh, not at all. I was quite brought up in an 
atmosphere of history, you know, and I’ve read 
‘ Frankfort Controversies.’ My father had a very 
high opinion of it.” 

The Canon smiled with pardonable pride. 

‘‘ It was very kind of him to think so, for he 
was an exceedingly able man. Ah ! now I recollect 
that on the one occasion on which I met him he 
told me what a help you were to him. And he 
mentioned, by the way, that you had just published 
something yourself.” 

She blushed slightly. 

He shouldn’t have told you that. It was only 
a little thing I wrote, and quite anonymously.” 

May I ask what it was ? ” 

Oh yes. It was called ^ A Story of Old Sussex ’ 
— just a child’s book.” 

Now, do you know, I came across that book 
not very long since, and wondered who wrote it. 
I think it’s a capital little work. It shows much 
historical knowledge and is accurate. I’m very 


174 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


pleased to have met the authoress and to tell her 
so.” 

When the train stopped and the porters cried out, 
“ Foxby ! — change for Selgate ! ” they were engaged 
in quite an animated discussion concerning St. Wil- 
frith and his work in the South. They had to wait 
some little time on the platform for the Selgate 
train. Presently Jane Rutland changed the con- 
versation abruptly. 

“ Fm very glad I met you this morning,” she 
said, for I really wanted to talk to you about 
something.” 

Their last interview flashed across his mind, and 
he wondered whether she was going to explain her 
curious question about Mentone. 

Yes? ” he said. 

“ It’s about a man named Blake — you know him.” 

‘‘ One of the vergers? ” 

Yes.” 

Indeed ! ” replied the Canon uneasily, wonder- 
ing what was coming. You want to speak to me 
about Blake? Well?” 

“ In the first place, I assure you he hasn’t the 
slightest idea that I intended doing so. In fact, I 
don’t know him myself. But his wife is a dress- 
maker and occasionally does some work for me. 
That is how I heard about his trouble.” 

They were sitting side by side on a seat on the 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 176 

platform. The Canon turned to her and said with 
anxiety : 

‘‘ Now I hope you’re not going to tell me there 
is anything wrong about Blake? In fact, for cer- 
tain reasons of my own, I would rather you did 
not tell me anything of the kind.” 

She looked back at him frankly. 

‘‘ Oh no,” she said, “ he’s not done anything 
wrong; but he’s in trouble, and I wanted to ask 
whether you could help him.” 

He gave a sigh of relief. 

“ Go on,” he replied — “ though I don’t know, of 
course, how I can be of any use to him.” 

“ The reason I determined to ask you,” she said 
quietly, “ was because I know he looks upon you 
as a friend.” 

Oh, not at all,” he answered, looking down on 
the platform. 

Mrs. Blake told me that her husband had said 
that you have acted towards him with great kind- 
ness, though he would not tell her in what way; 
so I thought you would be the one to ask, as you 
might bring his case before the Chapter.” 

The Canon smiled grimly as he remembered that 
Blake’s case was likely to be brought before the 
Chapter as it was. 

“ My dear Miss Rutland,” he replied, ‘‘ I don’t 
know what it is you want me to bring before the 


176 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Chapter, but I fear my influence in that direction 
is very feeble.’' 

“ At all events,” she said quickly, “ I have heard 
that that august body does not inspire you with 
much fear when it is a question of justice. This 
is a question of philanthropy, and might be even 
easier.” 

“ Well, let me hear it.” 

“ In plain words, Blake is in financial difficulties. 
He backed a bill — isn’t that the correct term? — 
for a brother of his, and now he has to find all the 
money. If this is not done by Saturday, an action 
will be taken and all his goods seized — and that 
would ruin his home.” 

“ Indeed ! ” replied the Canon. “ I’m very sorry 
to hear about it. Is the amount considerable ? ” 

He was beginning to understand the source of 
Blake’s temptation now. 

'' I don’t know what the whole amount is, but he 
wants twenty pounds more — Mrs. Blake told me so 
yesterday.” 

She did not add that a slightly larger sum had 
been required the previous day, and that her own 
slender purse was proportionately lighter. 

‘‘ I see,” he said reflectively. 

“ It struck me that you could possibly prevail 
upon the Dean to advance him the twenty pounds 
from the Chapter, and deduct a weekly sum out of 
his wages.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


m 


The Canon smiled his grim smile again before he 
replied. 

I am very sorry for him — very sorry.” 

I knew you would be. And his wife is a strug- 
gling, hard-working woman.” 

Where do they live ? ” he asked casually. 

‘‘ Number Eleven, Palmer’s Alley — I think you 
know that part of Frattenbury,” she added with a 
slight emphasis. 

‘‘ Yes,” he said with a laugh, “ I have some rea- 
son for knowing it. Well, I’m very glad you 
told me this, and I’ll see what can be done in the 
matter.” 

Thank you so much. It’s very kind of you, 
and I hope you’ll succeed. Here is the Selgate 
train, I think.” 

They took tickets at Foxby, and then for the 
first time Jane Rutland noticed that the Canon’s 
was of a superior colour. 

‘‘ I’m afraid you have been sacrificing your com- 
fort for my sake,” she said. 

‘‘ On the contrary, it has been a great pleasure to 
travel with you.” 

She saw that he honestly meant it, too, and was 
genuinely pleased herself. They said good-bye at 
Selgate. 

‘‘We must have another historical chat,” re- 
marked the Canon. 

“You are writing another book, are you not?” 


178 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ Yes. I was in Switzerland early in the year, 
collecting notes for it.’^ 

I see. Well, I wish you well over it. Good- 
bye.” 

“ Good-bye.” 

Now I wonder,” said Jane Rutland to herself 
as she walked away, I wonder whether his visit 
to Switzerland has any reference to the rumours 
about him. Aunt Bella let out that his card was 
discovered at Mentone. I’m perfectly certain he 
has never been there. He may have exchanged 
cards with some other clergyman abroad ! ” 

From which it will be seen that Jane Rutland was 
an astute young woman, and had not only very 
nearly hit upon the truth, but had done what is as 
wise as it is rare: she had brought inductive rea- 
soning to bear upon the growth of a scandal. 

When the Canon was alone in his residence at 
Frattenbury that evening, he turned over in his 
mind the possible ways by which he might try to 
get Blake out of his difficulties. But the more he 
thought things over, the more he saw that it would 
be out of the question to bring the matter before the 
Dean and Chapter. In the first place, the Chapter 
did not meet until the following week. In the next 
place, he felt pretty certain that the Dean was going 
to carry out his threat with regard to Blake, and that 
it would be all that he could do to prevent the man 
being dismissed. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


179 


Blake must have the twenty pounds, though. 
That was certain. He looked on Blake, not as the 
Sandy Saint ” would have regarded him, as “ a 
soul to be saved,” but as a soul that had been 
saved, and that not by the traditions of orthodoxy, 
but by the blowing of a nose. Finally he said to 
himself: 

“ Blake shall have the twenty pounds.” 

There were three reasons that forced this con- 
clusion to his mind. 

First, he had, a couple of days before, received a 
nice little royalty from his publishers. 

Secondly, his genuine human sympathy with the 
man. 

Thirdly, Jane Rutland had charged him with the 
case. 

And these three reasons were strictly in the as- 
cending scale. 

Finally he opened a drawer in his study table, 
took out a tin cash-box, opened it, and produced 
his cheque-book. 

Then he hesitated. 

‘‘ No,” he remarked slowly, ‘‘ not that way; I will 
remain anonymous.” 

He looked inside the cash-box. 

A five-pound note and three odd sovereigns. 

shall have to get the money at the Bank 
to-morrow,” he muttered. ‘‘ Ah ! ” 

His eyes fell upon something at the bottom of the 


180 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


box. He took it out. It was the twenty-pound 
note he had found in the pocket of the Thusis 
stranger. All this time he had kept it, together 
with the check suit, in the hope that an opportunity 
might some day occur of restoring them to the 
man — with the addition of a strong piece of his 
mind. 

Why not this ! ” he exclaimed ; ‘‘ there is no 
reason why I should give him back his own par- 
ticular note. Here is the money handy, and Blake 
would get it by the first post to-morrow.” 

Being a man of habit, he jotted down the number 
of the note on a bit of paper, put the twenty pounds 
into an envelope, with the words, “ From a friend,” 
written on the flap, addressed the envelope to Blake, 
and took it to the post at once so that not even 
his servant should know he had sent the verger 
anything. 

Then he returned, spent a couple of hours over 
his book, writing hard, and went to bed in a happy 
frame of mind and with an easy conscience. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Sir Daniel Taylor sat in the Mayor's chair in 
the Council Chamber, the Royal Arms emblazoned 
on a panel behind him. In front of him was a 
long table, covered with green baize, whereat were 
assembled the sapient members of the Frattenbury 
Town Council, all looking exceedingly important 
as became City Fathers. At the further end of 
the room, facing the Mayor, was a gallery, where 
a sprinkling of citizens was occasionally present to 
listen to the wisdom arising from the table below. 

On this particular evening the gallery was 
crowded, while, foremost of the throng, in the front 
row, sat Everett Horne, supported by Rice on one 
side and Canon Smith on the other. During the 
preliminaries of the meeting the Mayor glared at 
each of the three in turn, for he knew exactly why 
they were present. The tobacconist he abom- 
inated, as became a Tory and a Churchman; the 
Canon he regarded with pained contempt, as became 
a respectable and virtuous man ; and Everett Horne 
excited in him mixed feelings of fear, anger, and dis- 
appointment, as became a defeated man and a 
father. 

i8i 


182 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Presently the crucial business of the meeting 
commenced. The Committee appointed for sani- 
tary purposes presented their report, in the course 
of which was the following: — 

‘‘The City Surveyor has reported, according to 
instructions, on the sanitary condition of that portion 
of the city known as Grove Street and Palmer's 
Alley. He is of opinion that steps should be taken 
for a proper water-supply to each house, that the 
drainage of the same should be entirely renewed, 
and that a number of alterations and improvements, 
specified in the separate report before you, entailing 
sundry building operations externally and internally, 
should be ordered without delay, in order that the 
whole property should be brought up to a higher 
standard and more in accord with other similarly 
situated portions of the City. The Committee have 
carefully considered this report, and recommend that 
it should be carried out in detail at once." 

If they had dared, the citizens in the gallery 
would have applauded; but they knew very well 
in that case the Mayor would have ordered them 
out instantly. 

‘‘ We’ve won, hands down," whispered Everett 
Horne to the Canon. “ The Mayor’s the chairman 
of that committee, and he’s caved in." 

The City Surveyor, who sat down below, had 
turned very red. He knew very well that this 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


183 


report of his ought to have been adopted ages 
ago. 

‘‘ Well, gentlemen,’^ said the Mayor pompously, 
and very anxious to avoid any discussion, you 
have heard the report of the Sanitary Committee. 
Will any one move that it be adopted?” 

He looked significantly at one of the Aldermen, 
■with whom he had made arrangements beforehand, 
but before that individual could rise to his feet a 
Councillor had anticipated him — a little red-haired 
fellow, who was about the only man present who 
was not afraid to speak his mind in Sir Daniel’s 
presence, and who had always been a thorn in 
the latter’s side. 

“ Mr. Mayor, sir ! ” 

'‘Well?” said that functionary. 

" Before the adoption of that report is moved I 
should like to ask a question.” 

" What is it?” 

" I am not a member of the Sanitary Committee, 
and I want to know whether this report has been 
drawn up under compulsion.” 

“ Order ! order ! ” cried the Mayor and several of 
his attendant satellites. 

" Because,” went on the irrepressible little man, 
before he could be checked, " it is a strange coin- 
cidence that this report should come before us 
immediately after the resolution of the late meeting 


184 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


of the Ratepayers' Association; and I, for one, think 
we are more indebted to those gentlemen I see 
in the gallery for this very necessary action which 
the Committee recommend us to take than to the 
Committee itself.” 

''Order! order!” shouted the Mayor. "Your 
remarks are most uncalled-for, sir ! The Committee 
over which it is my honour and privilege to preside, 
are not to be coerced either to or from their duty 
to this city by any outside influence.” 

" Oh ! ” cried the red-haired man ironically, rous- 
ing still further the Mayor's anger. 

" The matter has been before the consideration 
of the Committee for some time,” went on Sir 
Daniel, " and I should like to take this opportunity 
of saying for the benefit of certain persons present 
who may or may not have exceeded their lawful 
functions in this city ” — and he glared at Canon 
Smith — " by undue interference and threats, that 
the deliberations of this City Council and its com- 
mittees owe nothing to any action on their part. 
I myself, perhaps, am likely, as a private citizen, 
to most feel the burden that the acceptance of the 
report will entail, but I have always determined that 
my feelings as a private citizen shall never retard 
the course of justice.” 

Here the Canon and Everett Horne broke out 
into a broad smile at the Mayor’s rather unfortunate 
remark; but the speaker was in blissful ignorance 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


185 


of the strange trend of his “ feelings as a private 
citizen and exclaimed angrily : 

'' I may even be exposed to the taunts and jeers 
of those who ought to know better, but I repeat 
that my public duty has nothing to do with my 
private feelings, and that, as chairman of the Sani- 
tary Committee, I have been forward in drawing up 
this report, though it can scarcely be an advantage 
to me to do so. I will now call upon Alderman 
Gifford, who, I believe, was about to speak.” 

The enemy beat a retreat, covered with much 
confusion, and reported a moral victory,” whispered 
Everett Horne. 

Alderman Gifford, a local corn merchant, whose 
ledgers had Sir Daniel’s name in them as a buyer 
of much barley, made a pretty little speech, extolling, 
in half a score of adjectives, the Mayor’s public- 
spirited attitude, and moved the adoption of the 
report. This was seconded in an equally pleasing 
speech by a Councillor, and finally carried unani- 
mously. Then the gallery began to clear, and Ever- 
ett Horne walked home with the Canon. 

Everett Horne went in with the Canon and stayed 
till late, smoking and chatting. He was much 
pleased with the victory, and he thanked Canon 
Smith very heartily for his share in winning it. 

I’m afraid, though,” he said, you have made 
your position here rather a disagreeable one, both 
with Sir Daniel and my respected uncle.” 


186 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


I don’t mind that,” replied the Canon. ‘‘ I tell 
you candidly that I might not have taken the line 
I have done a few months ago, but I have, perhaps, 
broadened a little in my views of late.” 

Oh,” replied Horne thoughtfully, ‘‘ that is not 
always the effect of living in the Close, and I’m 
glad to hear you say as much. Yes, we’ve both 
of us got ourselves a little bit disliked. Did you 
notice how the Mayor glared at us ? ” 

‘‘ I did,” said the Canon. Then he added drily : 

You don’t seem to mind it much.” 

Everett Horne took his pipe from his lips and 
puffed out a cloud slowly. Then he smiled, as he 
looked at the Canon. 

“ You mean, considering I am hoping to be his 
son-in-law some day ? ” 

‘‘Well, yes!” 

“ Oh, I think that will come right, you know. 
Miss Taylor is of age, and the old man’s a bit of 
a snob. 1 am a. fishmonger, and a Radical, and 
all that, but somehow I think he’ll forgive it all. 
Funny mind he must have, eh? ” 

“ I fancy,” said the Canon, “ that Miss Taylor 
herself must be a little trying to him sometimes.” 
“ Yes. Quite a Socialist, isn’t she? ” 

“ Quite.” 

Everett Horne was looking at him with an amused 
air. Eleanor had *told him of the conversation and 
arguments up at St. Moritz, and he felt pretty cer- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 187 


tain that most of the Canon's line of action was 
really based upon his experiences there. He was 
trying to picture him in the loud check knicker- 
bocker suit or in the sweater with the Cheshire Cat 
emblazoned upon it. 

Just at that moment the front-door bell rang, 
and presently a servant entered. 

“ The Dean wishes to speak to you particularly, 
sir." 

Show him in, please." 

“ O my prophetic soul, my uncle ! " exclaimed 
Everett Horne ; Vd better go. Good evening, 
Uncle," he went on, as the Dean entered ; don’t 
mind me. I’m just off." 

The Dean shook hands with both men. He 
looked taller and thinner than ever, his eyes shone, 
and his cheeks, usually so sallow, were quite glow- 
ing. He had come into the room with an air of 
triumph and importance which made itself felt. 

I’m sorry to disturb you," he said pompously, 
protesting, with a slight cough, against the fumes 
of Southern Mixture," and eyeing with a look 
of disapproval the whisky decanter from which 
Everett had been helping himself, “ I’m sorry to 
disturb you, Canon Smith, but the matter is im- 
portant — though I guessed that my nephew might 
be here." 

‘‘ Quite right. Uncle," said Everett cheerfully ; 
'' we’ve been congratulating ourselves over the Town 


188 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Council meeting. I suppose you’ve heard of it? 
You’ll have to get to work, Uncle! — you’ll have 
to get to work ! ” 

I disapprove of your methods, Everett,” replied 
the Dean coldly, ‘‘ and I have no wish to discuss 
what has taken place. Sir Daniel Taylor is quite 
capable of advising those under him, and I consider 
the attack upon him has been most unjustifiable.” 

This was intended as a double-barrelled rebuke. 
In reply, Everett drank up his whisky-and-water, 
genially nodding towards the Dean. 

Your good health. Uncle. Good-night. Good- 
night, Canon Smith; don’t trouble. I’ll let myself 
out.” 

“ Now I ” exclaimed the Dean in ill-disguised 
triumph, when his nephew had departed, and 
standing .with his back to the fire in a command- 
ing attitude, “ Now, Canon Smith I I have come 
to tell you that my suspicions about Blake were 
not only correct, but events have proved that the 
man is a thorough scoundrel. I thought it only 
right, as you have chosen to defend him by what 
I consider to be extraordinary conduct, that you 
should know at once.” 

“ Indeed I ” replied the Canon rather coldly. I 
was under the impression that you intended bring- 
ing the case before the Chapter. Till then, I see no 
necessity for discussing it.” 

“ Oh yes, there is,” replied the Dean, who was 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


189 


much too jubilant to lose his temper; “ and I think, 
when you have heard what I have to tell you, that 
you will admit the error of defending him.” 

It was the man’s petty mind that had brought 
him out on his errand. He wanted to triumph 
over this insubordinate Canon. 

“ I quite admit,” replied the latter, that Blake 
may have transgressed; I never disputed that for 
a moment. What I objected to was acting the 
part of a spy, and your refusing to give him 
a chance. I did not want the man to be ruined 
while there was a chance of saving him. And I 
do not hesitate to say that I think we shall have 
no further cause of complaint. In fact, I am almost 
prepared to guarantee his honesty for the future.” 

“ I don’t think you will be so prepared in a 
minute ! ” retorted the Dean, not losing his temper 
because he felt he could afford to keep it. ‘‘Of 
course I understand that your defence of Blake is 
only a part of your determined opposition to my- 
self 

“ Not at all,” said the Canon sharply. 

The Dean waved his hand. 

“ I may be allowed to have my own opinion of 
that! But, to come to the point at once, Blake 
is in the police cells ! ” 

“What!” exclaimed the Canon indignantly; 
“ you have given him in charge ? ” 

“No,” said the Dean blandly; “this is another 


190 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


matter. He was arrested in the early part of the 
evening on a very grave accusation.” 

What?” 

Do you remember the Bank robbery at Worth- 
ingham just about Christmas?” 

Yes. I heard something about it at the time.” 

‘‘ Well, one of the stolen notes — a note for 
twenty pounds — was found in Blake’s possession 
to-day. He was trying to pass it. And he is un- 
able to give any account of how it got into his 
hands. The man is evidently in league with 
thieves, besides being one himself. He is a re- 
ceiver of stolen goods. There will be no need 
for lis to prosecute him.” 

The Canon sat for a moment or two stunned 
with the intelligence. Then he said slowly: 

‘‘ A twenty-pound note ! Is this true, Mr. 
Dean?” 

Quite true ! ” replied the Dean triumphantly ; 
“ I have seen the superintendent of the police this 
evening. He tells me a Scotland Yard Inspector 
will be here to-morrow, together with the repre- 
sentative of the Bank Managers. The police have 
been trying to trace the notes for several months.” 

A flood of light broke in upon the Canon’s mind, 
carrying him back to that particular evening when 
he dined with the stranger in the hotel at Thusis. 

“ And you say Blake is in prison ? ” he asked. 

“ He is.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 191 


The Canon glanced at the clock. 

“Is it possible to bail him out to-night?” he 
asked quietly. 

“To bail him out! ” cried the Dean in astonish- 
ment. “ I quite fail to see the drift of such a ques- 
tion.” 

“ Because,” said the Canon, still quietly, “ I would 
do so myself, if it were possible.” 

“Bail is very properly refused,” answered the 
Dean. “ Really, your partisanship with this man 
Blake is most extraordinary I ” 

“ You see,” replied the Canon, crossing one leg 
over the other, and putting the tips of his fingers 
together, “ I happen to know that he is quite inno- 
cent of this charge.” 

The Dean looked at him with increased astonish- 
ment. 

“ Perhaps you will explain ? ” he said, his temper 
beginning to go for the first time. 

Canon Smith thought a moment before he an- 
swered. After the way the Dean had treated him 
he was not at all disposed to be confidential. 

“ I think,” he said presently, “ that I would 
rather do that before the magistrates. There has, 
I presume, already been some little public talk 
about the afifair, so it will be just as well to establish 
Blake’s innocence in public. When will the magis- 
trates sit?” 

“ There is to be a special sitting to-morrow 


192 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


morning/’ replied the Dean, his curiosity strongly 
aroused. But what can you know about this 
affair? ” 

‘‘ I have already said that I will explain that — 
to-morrow.” 

I think,” said the Dean, ‘‘ that you owe it to 
me to explain it now.” 

I am sorry to disappoint you, but I prefer to 
wait till to-morrow. I will go so far as to say that 
the question is one which only concerns Blake and 
myself. And now,” he went on, rising from his 
seat and speaking with some asperity, ‘‘ I think, if 
you will excuse me, I will just run round to Mrs. 
Blake and tell her it will be all right. She must 
be worrying herself dreadfully.” 

The hint was a broad one, and the Dean, baffled 
at every point, went home to discuss matters with 
his wife. 

Octavia,” he said, I have made up my 
mind that as soon as the Bishop returns it will 
be my duty to tell him everything about Canon 
Smith.” 

‘‘ Quite right, quite right. The man is becoming 
a downright nuisance. He isn’t fit for his position 
here. I shouldn’t wonder if his Letters of Orders 
were frauds. He ought to be exposed. Terrible! 
— terrible! What does he know about this Blake? 
I don’t believe he knows anything; he’s doing it 
to annoy you. It’s time he was stopped — a regular 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


193 


red-hot Socialist ! Most dangerous ! Ring the bell, 
dear; it is past ten.” 

The Dean rang the bell. The servants filed in. 
The Dean read prayers, very solemnly. The page- 
boy happened to be munching a piece of stickjaw, 
and found it difficult to join in the responses, for 
which omission the gentle Octavia kept him behind 
and lectured him. The Dean retired to his study 
for an hour's reading. Silence reigned in the Close 
— hallowed silence. 

And in that silence the three Miss Millingtons 
were wondering, as they did nightly, whether any- 
thing was really wrong with the Canon. The Dean 
had laid his book on his knees, and was thinking 
of what course the Bishop might take with the 
said Canon. Jane Rutland was looking over the 

Frankfort Controversies,” before blowing out her 
candle, and wondering, at intervals, what the afore- 
said Canon, in his heart of hearts, thought of the 
little book called A Story of Old Sussex.” 

And the Canon in Residence himself? He was 
smoking his last pipe and thinking over many things 
— the stranger at Thusis — the check suit — St. 
Moritz and Eleanor Taylor — his own development 
in human interests — the mysterious twenty-pound 
note — what he was going to say on the morrow 
— the unfortunate denoiiment of Jane Rutland’s 
sympathy — ^Jane Rutland herself. 

Then he went to bed thinking — of Jane Rutland. 


CHAPTER XV 


Sir Daniel Taylor took his seat on the judicial 
bench with a conscious sense of his own impor- 
tance as Chief Magistrate of the Cathedral City of 
Frattenbury. He was flanked by two other 
confreres, sharing his air of importance. He looked 
down below him at the various functionaries, who 
rose on the entry of the Triumvirate. There was 
the Clerk to the Justices, most indispensable to 
the Great Unpaid; a couple of reporters, with their 
note-books all ready to record wisdom; a strange 
solicitor, representing the Worthingham Bank; a 
detective-inspector from Scotland Yard; the local 
superintendent of police and half-a-dozen of his 
satellites — sturdy, stolid, stomach-developing; the 
local bank manager, who had detected the stolen 
note, and, to the Mayor’s surprise and slight an- 
noyance, the familiar figure of the Canon in Resi- 
dence, calmly taking a seat in the court. 

At the back was a crowded audience, for already 
Blake’s arrest and its connection with the great 
Worthingham Bank robbery had caused considerable 
excitement in the city. The Mayor’s eyes lighted 
upon the little sea of faces with equanimity. He 
194 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


195 


loved to exercise his judicial functions in public, 
and was never ill-pleased when there was such an 
occasion for the display of his powers and saga- 
city. 

Bring in the prisoner, please ! ’’ he ordered, 
throwing himself back in his chair and half closing 
his eyes in token of the supreme tranquillity of 
Justice. 

Frederick Blake! shouted the usher. 

A couple of constables brought in the unfortunate 
prisoner, placed him in a wooden compartment not 
unlike an old-fashioned pew, and stood on each side 
of the dock as sentries, with a look that said : 

“ Go on ; he’ll never escape while weWe here. 
We know our duty.” 

Blake, who looked very uncomfortable, glanced 
round the court. His eye fell for a moment upon 
the Canon, who smiled and nodded to him en- 
couragingly. He wondered what this meant. 

The Clerk then read the indictment with some 
emphasis, instead of in his usual rapid and unintelli- 
gible manner, for this was a case of importance. 
He explained what every one knew, to wit, that 
Frederick Blake stood there charged with being in 
unlawful possession of a bank-note, knowing the 
same to be stolen. The accused was about to speak, 
but the Clerk stopped him judicially: 

‘‘ You may make any statement you please 
presently,” he said, “ after the examination of the 


196 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


witnesses; at present, as you are undefended, your 
wisest course is to say nothing.” 

At this moment Canon Smith got up. 

“ Mr. Mayor,” he said, “ may I be allowed to give 
some information to the Bench?” 

The Mayor started violently from his repose. 

‘‘ Eh ? ” he exclaimed. “ Is it anything to do 
with the case? ” 

‘‘ Certainly.” 

Sir Daniel held a whispered conversation with 
the other magistrates and the Clerk, and then said 
sententiously : 

We cannot take your statement now. The other 
witnesses must be heard first. Then, if you have 
anything to say, you will be heard on oath.” 

The Canon bowed and sat down again. The 
audience wondered what he had to do with it. 
So did the Mayor, secretly. The Scotland Yard 
Inspector and the strange solicitor gazed hard at 
the Canon. The former, especially, scrutinised him 
with the air of a man to whom social position or 
the cloth ” were nothing, but information ” was 
everything. 

James Sturgess ! ” 

Sturgess, the local bank manager, went into the 
witness-box and took the oath. His story was a 
very simple one. Blake had entered the bank in 
person the previous day and asked for cash for 
a twenty-pound note. He, Sturgess, had cashed 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 197 

it, and immediately afterwards had compared the 
number with a private list of his own, when he 
discovered at once that it was one of a series stolen 
at the Worthingham Bank. Blake was still count- 
ing his money when this happened. 

What did you do then ? ” asked the Clerk. 

I said to Blake, ‘ Where did you get this note ? ’ 
or words to that effect.” 

And what did he reply ? ” 

‘‘ He said he didn’t know where it came from, and 
that he had received it by post.” 

“But surely he knew who was the sender?” 
asked the Mayor. 

“ That is all he said. He could account for it in 
no other way. I asked him to step into my private 
office, and sent for a policeman at once.” 

“ Quite right,” said the Mayor. “ Is there any- 
thing else you have to tell us ? ” 

“ I think not.” 

“ Stop a minute,” said the strange lawyer, who 
had been whispering with the Scotland Yard In- 
spector. “ How long have you had that list you 
refer to? ” 

“ It was sent me a few days after the Worthing- 
ham robbery. It is usual for bank managers to 
receive lists of missing notes on such occasions.” 

“ Quite so. What I want to ask you is whether 
you have had any previous suspicion that any of 
these notes were being circulated in the town ? ” 


198 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


None whatever. Every note passing through 
our hands is properly entered, and I should have 
known at once.” 

Thank you, Mr. Sturgess.” 

‘‘ Constable Upston ! ” 

Constable Upston deposed in a matter-of-fact 
way that he had been called into the Frattenbury 
Bank by the Manager, and had taken the prisoner 
in charge. Prisoner had remarked that he knew 
nothing whatever of the note, but that it had been 
sent to him in an envelope by post. 

Have you searched the prisoner ? ” asked the 
Mayor. 

“ Yes, your worship.” 

“ And his house ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, your worship.” 

Did you find anything of an incriminating 
nature ? ” 

“ No, your worship.” 

“ Did you find any envelope addressed to him ? ” 
put in the lawyer. 

‘‘No, sir.” 

“ That completes the case against the prisoner 
so far as we have been able to go,” said the Clerk. 

“ I ask for a remand until further evidence has 
been collected,” said the lawyer. 

“ Have you anything to say, prisoner ? ” asked 
the Mayor severely. 

“ No, sir. Except that the note was sent me by 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


199 


post, and I haven’t the slightest notion where it 
came from.” 

“ H’m ! ” said the Mayor, in the tone of voice of 
a man not easily credulous. ‘‘Well — er — Canon 
Smith, we can hear what you have to say now.” 

The Canon took the oath, gave his name, address 
and profession, and then consulted a memorandum. 

** Was this the note in question? ” he asked, read- 
ing a number. 

The note was passed round to the magistrates. 

‘‘ It was,” replied the Mayor. 

** Then I wish to state that it was I who sent it 
to Blake. I posted it on Tuesday evening by the 
last post.” 

A thrill of astonishment passed through the court, 
while the detective looked at the Canon harder than 
ever. 

You swear that you sent Blake this twenty- 
pound note ? ” asked Sir Daniel slowly. 

Yes.” 

And what was your reason ? ” 

I happened to know that the man was in trouble, 
and I sent him the note anonymously.” 

A little murmur of applause ran round the back 
of the court. 

''Silence!” cried the Mayor. "If there is any 
more noise I shall have the court cleared. You 
swear to this?” he repeated. 

" I swear to it.” 


200 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Look at this note,” went on the Mayor, passing 
it to him, “ and be careful what you say. You 
swear that this twenty-pound note is the same that 
you posted anonymously to Blake ? ” 

The Canon examined it carefully. 

“ Yes,” he said deliberately, ‘‘ it is the same 
note.” 

“ Where did you get it ? ” asked Sir Daniel 
sharply, while the solicitor and the detective nodded 
their heads at each other in approval. 

Now the Canon had gone to the court carefully 
prepared for this question. Of course he had not 
forgotten the Dean’s threat to make known, as he 
thought, his little St. Moritz escapade to the Bishop ; 
and although he was annoyed about it, he knew 
very well that the Bishop could scarcely take any 
action, and would probably treat the whole matter 
as quite private. But the telling of all the facts by 
which he became possessed of that note in a public 
court was quite a different matter, and he felt justi- 
fied in taking the line upon which he had determined. 

Where did you get it ? ” 

“ On the Continent.” 

The detective pricked up his ears, and the Mayor 
suddenly remembered the mysterious scandal at 
which the Dean had hinted. 

That is rather vague,” he said ; perhaps you 
will inform the Bench the exact place and time when 
it came into your possession?” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE ^01 

** Certainly. At Thusis, in Switzerland, on Jan- 
uary the twenty-sixth.” 

The detective rapidly consulted a note-book. He 
was becoming intensely interested. 

** Who did you get it from? ” 

A stranger staying at the same hotel with my- 
self. I do not know who he was. He gave the 
name of Jones, and I never saw him before or since. 
He was an Englishman. We were both passing 
through Thusis in opposite directions. That is all 
I have to say.” 

The worthy Canon made this statement . slowly 
and emphatically, earnestly hoping that it would be 
enough. 

** How came he to give you the note? asked the 
Mayor. 

I do not see that it is necessary to answer that 
question,” replied the Canon. “I can only repeat 
that it came into my possession through him.” 

Oh,” said the Mayor, not quite satisfied, “ it 
came into your possession from him, and you do 
not care to tell us how ? ” 

I do not see that it is necessary.” 

Here the solicitor, who had received a pencilled 
note from the detective, jumped up. 

Your worship! ” 

“ Well?” 

“ I think we can quite understand why Canon 
Smith does not care to answer that question, and 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


202 

I agree with him that it is not necessary. This 
man Jones was naturally anxious to get rid of his 
stolen notes, and I suppose he saw a chance of 
passing one on an innocent-looking clergyman.’’ 

Here a suppressed titter ran round the court. 
The Mayor, somehow, forgot to check it, as he felt 
the laugh was against the Canon, and he had not 
forgotten the previous evening. The Canon for- 
gave the slight sarcasm freely, and began to breathe 
at ease. Events were taking the exact turn upon 
which he had calculated. 

“ But,” said the solicitor, the important point is 
the tracing of this Jones, and there the Canon may 
materially assist us. Can you describe him?” he 
asked the witness. 

Yes. He was a man of about forty, of middle 
height, with dark hair and a large brown mous- 
tache.” 

The detective’s face brightened. 

Have you any idea wEere he was going? ” 

“ Yes. He left for Paris the day after I met him, 
so the hotel-keeper told me. That was by the first 
train, before I was up. I did not see him that 
morning.” 

“ On the twenty-seventh of January? ” 

“ No, on the morning of the twenty-sixth.” 

The Mayor looked up sharply from his notes. 

“ But you told us that he gave you the note on the 
twenty-sixth. You meant the twenty-fifth? ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


203 


No,” replied the Canon a little uneasily; I gave 
you the correct date.” 

** How could he have given you the note on that 
day when you never saw him? ” 

** I did not say he gave me the note. I said it 
came into my possession on the twenty-sixth.” 

I must really ask you to give the Bench fuller 
particulars,” said the Mayor pompously. Who 
actually gave you the note ? ” 

No one,” replied the Canon, getting more dis- 
comfited, much to the Mayor's joy. 

Did he send it to you ? ” 

‘‘ No.” 

” I think,” went on the Mayor, that for the sake 
of all concerned you must be more explicit. Where 
was the note when you first saw it ? ” 

The Canon thought a moment. 

In a waistcoat pocket,” he said. There was no 
way out of it. 

** Did the waistcoat belong to this man Jones? ” 
Yes.” 

‘‘ Was he wearing it at the time ? ” 

No.” 

Canon Smith,” said the Mayor in a solemn 
voice, ‘‘ you appear to be playing with us ; you asked 
to be heard, and I must warn you that you have 
taken an oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and 
nothing but the truth. What were you doing with 
this man’s waistcoat when he was not wearing it? ” 


W4i THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

There was a hushed expectancy for the Canon’s 
reply. 

“I was wearing it myself!” he replied. 

** Indeed ! ” exclaimed the Mayor. And per- 
haps you will be good enough to tell us why you 
were wearing another man’s waistcoat on the morn- 
ing of the twenty-sixth of January in this Thusis 
hotel?” 

‘‘ I was not wearing it in the morning.” 

‘‘When were you wearing it, then? Be careful, 
Canon Smith,” said the Mayor sternly. 

He was having his revenge sevenfold. 

“ I was wearing it in the evening at St. Moritz,” 
replied the Canon, driven to desperation. “ An un- 
fortunate — er — accident occurred. This man Jones 
left his clothes behind him at Thusis and took mine, 
and I had to wear his. The twenty-pound note was 
in the pocket of his dress suit, which I did not put 
on till I reached St. Moritz that evening. I have 
kept the note ever since with the intention of return- 
ing it to the owner should I ever meet with him. 
It happened that I was out of cash the other night, 
and I, as it were, borrowed it to send to Blake. 
There — that is the whole story.” 

There was a roar of laughter at the back of the 
court. The Mayor restrained it, but, oh, how he 
enjoyed the sound thereof! He had his enemy in 
the toils, and he was determined not to spare 
him. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 205 

“ And a most extraordinary story it is,” he said in 
a properly shocked tone. Do you mean to tell us 
that he left his other clothes as well, and that you 
wore them ? 

Yes,” replied the Canon, reddening to the roots 
of his hair. 

The detective had scribbled another hasty note to 
the solicitor, who now rose to his feet once more. 

** I should like to ask Canon Smith another ques- 
tion.” 

‘‘ Certainly,” said the Mayor graciously. 

‘‘ These other clothes. Was the man Jones wear- 
ing them the previous day ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” said the Canon. 

Please describe them.” 

Amid much tittering the unhappy dignitary gave 
a hasty description of that awful check suit. It 
seemed to please the detective. 

“ Now,” went on the Mayor, ‘‘ I will ask you to 
be good enough to tell us whether you made any 
attempt to discover this man whom you say left his 
clothes for you to wear ? ” 

‘‘ I did not.” 

You mentioned it to the hotel proprietor, of 
course.” 

No.” 

Why not?” 

“ There was very little time. He had gone by 
the early train, and I chose to say nothing.” 


206 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Oh ! And how long did you remain at St. 
Moritz?’’ 

The Clerk was making violent signs to the 
Mayor, who was going beyond his office in his ex- 
ultation. But the latter persisted. 

About a week.” 

Oh ! You remained a week at St. Moritz, 
wearing this other man’s garments, in possession of 
his twenty pounds — stolen property — and you made 
no attempt to trace him? ” 

I did not know it was a stolen note ; it was only 
when I heard of Blake’s arrest that the truth flashed 
upon me. I have kept it, with the clothes, in the 
hope that I might be able one day to restore it. I 
was the victim of circumstances, and I have now 
told the Bench all I know about it.” 

The Mayor rubbed his hands with much satisfac- 
tion. 

I must say,” he said, “ that your conduct was 
most peculiar, and I wonder that you were content 
to remain in masquerade. I ” 

I believe it is not customary to censure witnesses 
for having spoken the truth,” broke in the Canon 
hotly. ‘'If you have any more questions I shall 
endeavour to answer them; if not, I presume my 
evidence is at an end.” 

“Oh, we have heard quite enough, I think,” re- 
plied the Mayor sarcastically ; “ unless you have 
anything else to ask ? ” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


m 


He spoke to the solicitor. 

No/’ replied the latter. “ Canon Smith has 
thrown quite a light on the subject, and I would 
like to speak to him privately. I only regret that it 
never occurred to him to consult the police on the 
matter, but of course he did not know who this 
man Jones was, and I can understand that he would 
wish to avoid publicity.” 

The Mayor consulted with his colleagues for a 
minute, and then he said : The case is dismissed ! ” 

The Canon turned to the solicitor. 

“You wanted a word with me?” 

“If it is convenient. And perhaps you would 
not mind the Inspector here asking you some ques- 
tions ? ” 

“ Not at all. I suggest that you both come home 
with me. Excuse me a moment. Blake,” he went 
on, turning to the verger, who had stepped out of 
the dock, a free man, “ I’m very sorry I’ve caused 
you all this annoyance. Please take this envelope. 
Don’t open it now. I knew of your trouble and I 
wanted to help you.” 

The man stammered his thanks. When he 
reached home he opened the envelope and found a 
check for twenty pounds in it. The Canon walked 
off with the solicitor, followed by the detective-in- 
spector. There was a crowd at the door, and not 
a few broad grins greeted the Canon as he passed 
out. One man shouted excitedly : 


g08 


THE CANON IN KESIDENCE 


“ Look ! that’s the London detective followin’ ’im. 
I’ll bet ’e ain’t a-goin’ to allow ’im out of ’is sight. 
It’s a rum go ! ” 

The Canon overheard this remark and blushed a 
little, for he felt that his position was a trifle ridicu- 
lous. When he reached the Residence the two men 
went in with him, and a long consultation took 
place. 

‘‘ I am really very sorry for you. Canon Smith,” 
said the solicitor ; ‘‘ and I must say that the Mayor 
appeared viciously pleased to get your awkward 
dilemma out of you.” 

He’s not exactly a friend of mine,” replied the 
Canon grimly. “ The story was a curious one, I 
don’t doubt, but I was placed in extremely awkward 
circumstances at the time, and I had to make the 
best of it.” 

‘‘ Quite so. But you will give the Inspector and 
myself a few more details, in confidence.” 

“ You have every right to ask for them.” 

‘‘ Well,” broke in the Inspector, “ the case stands 
in this way : this man Jones answers to the descrip- 
tion of the fellow we have wanted all along. He’s 
an exceedingly clever chap. We had our suspicions 
when the robbery took place, and we very soon 
found out that he was the principal. We traced him 
to the Continent, and were well on his track, when, 
somehow or other, it leaked out to a newspaper 
fellow that we were after him in Switzerland and 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE ^09 


had nearly caught him at Zurich. The newspaper 
published this, and evidently he took the warning. 
Now, would you mind telling us exactly how he 
changed clothes with you?” 

The Canon gave him the details, omitting the 
man’s letter. This was not necessary. 

H’m ! That was just when we missed all traces 
of him,” said the detective; and he went to Paris, 
did he? It’s very queer. Oh, but he’s a sharp 
chap. He’s been getting rid of the notes. We 
know that; but he’s been precious clever over it, 
and we really haven’t any idea where to put a finger 
on him. When we do catch him we shall want you 
as a witness.” 

The solicitor laughed. 

You needn’t worry over that. Canon Smith,” he 
said ; ‘‘ we shall not submit you to such an ordeal as 
you went through this morning.” 

The story of the Canon’s evidence spread very 
quickly over Frattenbury and formed the subject of 
discussion everywhere. They say a fierce light 
beats down upon a throne. Perhaps almost a fiercer 
light shines on a clergyman. The tale was twisted 
in many ways, and much exaggerated, and before 
the evening closed in, all sorts of rumours had got 
about. It was hinted that the Canon was in league 
with swindlers ; that he had tried to pass off a stolen 
note and very narrowly escaped being committed 
for trial, and that he would have been committed if 


^10 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


he hadn’t been a parson, which thing showed as 
how there was one law for the rich and another 
for the poor ’’ ; that his every movement was being 
shadowed by detectives; that he had only escaped 
the police abroad by adopting a disguise — in short, 
the goddess of Scandal held high revel in Fratten- 
bury. 

But then she often found her abode in Cathedral 
Cities congenial. She might have had a statue in 
the Close. 

Anyway, Canon Smith, popular as he had become 
with many, was under a cloud. The more good- 
natured only laughed at him and his predicament. 
There were some who stood up for him. There 
were others, under the shadow of the Cathedral, 
who were scarcely kind. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Good gracious,” exclaimed Miss Millington, when 
the news first broke upon them, it is worse and 
worse! I never heard of such a thing in my life^ 
A dignitary of Frattenbury Cathedral going about 
in a light check suit with stolen bank-notes! How 
pained the dear Bishop will be when he hears of 
it ! Whatever made him do it ? ” And she added 
beneath her breath : There must have been some- 

thing wrong, or he would have found the man who 
had stolen his clothes. He must be a doubtful 
character.” 

“ He’ll have to explain matters a little more 
fully,” snapped Bella, if he can. It’s terrible to 
think that we had him in the house, and that he 
actually addressed the Guild of St. Roger. I hope 
the Dean won’t let him preach in the Cathedral any 
more. I should think he’d be ashamed to, though.” 

And we all thought so much of him ! ” sighed 
Daisy, 

‘‘Don’t say ejaculated Bella; “I always 

thought there was something queer about him.” 

“ But you didn’t say so at first,” said Daisy 
mildly. 

2II 


212 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


‘‘ Daisy ! '' put in Miss Millington, “ why will you 
always try to argue things? If Bella has an opin- 
ion of her own, it is not your place to flatly con- 
tradict her. Naturally, we were all prepared to 
welcome Canon Smith to the Close, and it was right 
that we should — er — ask him to tea occasionally. 
But this is a shocking state of affairs now. Every 
one is talking about it.’^ 

‘‘ But,’^ said Jane quietly, surely it is very sim- 
ple? It wasn’t Canon Smith’s fault that all this 
happened. It was an unfortunate position for him 
to be placed in, but he explained it all.” 

Bella regarded her witheringly. 

I don’t think you quite understand, Jane dear,” 
she said icily ; the position was a most peculiar 
one, and it is strange that it took a Court of Justice 
to drag the — er — truth, or what he called the truth, 
from him.” 

I think Sir Daniel acted admirably,” broke in 
Miss Millington; “ it must have been a painful duty 
for him, a very painful duty.” 

“ I don’t think,” went on Jane rather hotly — for 
she was beginning to get a little out of patience 
with her aunts — I don’t think it is fair to talk 
of Canon Smith like this. It is perfectly natural 
that he should have kept the matter to himself. 
There was no occasion for him to mention it.” 

Miss Millington drew herself up into her severest 
attitude. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


213 


“ Jane,” she said, “ it is not quite the thing for 
a young girl to give vent to her opinions as you 
do. This is a public scandal. We have never, in 
all the years we have resided in the Close, associ- 
ated with anybody who has had to answer to a 
charge in a police court.” 

“ But he hasn’t,” replied Jane; ‘‘ you talk. Auntie, 
as if he were a prisoner in the dock. He only gave 
evidence to save a man from being imprisoned. 
Why, a stolen bank-note might come into anybody’s 
possession — even yours.” 

I trust not,” replied Miss Millington haughtily ; 

stolen property does not generally pass into the 
hands of innocent persons, and I must say that the 
whole thing is suspicious. Isn’t it, Bella? Yes, 
exceedingly suspicious. And,” she went on, as if 
delivering an awful fiat, until Canon Smith gives 
a better explanation than he did at the police court, 
I shall order James to say ‘ not at home ’ if he 
calls.” 

She sighed, perhaps suddenly remembering earlier 
possibilities that had occurred to her. 

To my mind,” said Bella, “ it is all part and 
parcel of the other affair. I’ll tell you exactly what 
I think.” 

And she went on to prove a very pretty little 
theory. Canon Smith was an inveterate gambler in 
private life. He had won that twenty-pound note 
playing cards with some criminal, and probably 


214 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


knew it to be stolen. That was why he had sent 
it to Blake. It was a way of getting rid of it. 
She did not explain, by the way, why the Canon 
came forward of his own free will to extricate 
Blake. He had, probably, disguises while travelling 
on the Continent, and the story about the other 
man’s clothes was all made up. Then he went 
on to Mentone. And, depend upon it,” said 
Bella, “ it was he who was gambling at Monte 
Carlo.” 

Jane had stood it bravely, but her indignation 
got the better of her. 

“ I told you he had never been to Mentone,” she 
said, rising from her chair. 

Ah, so he said ! ” exclaimed Bella. 

‘‘ Of course he wouldn’t say he had been there,” 
said Daisy. 

‘‘ I should say,” said Jane, with a very flushed 
face, catching her breath in anger, and going out 
of her room, I should say it is not very wise of 
you to talk about him like this. It sounds libellous.” 

Miss Millington looked at her in dumb amaze- 
ment as she went out of the door. 

‘‘ Well,” she exclaimed to her sisters, “ Jane for- 
gets herself! She is actually accusing us of talking 
slander. I never heard of such a thing. I shall 
speak to her seriously by and by.” 

Of course Sir Daniel had gone home from the 
court and told his daughter the whole story. He 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


^15 


was brimming over with satisfaction at having what 
he considered to be his revenge on the Canon. The 
point that he appreciated was having made the 
latter a public laughing-stock. The fact was that 
he knew very well that he himself had been upheld 
to public ridicule over the Town Council Meeting, 
and it was a relief to his feelings to have been able 
to put the Canon into a somewhat similar predica- 
ment. Beyond this his mind had really not gone 
very far. The confusion of the Canon in the wit- 
ness-box, the roar of laughter which had greeted 
his enforced evidence, these were the points that 
were of special sweetness to the Mayor. It was a 
public revenge. 

Eleanor listened to his story attentively. She 
was really sorry for Canon Smith, though very 
much inclined to smile when she heard for the first 
time of the exchange of clothes. She could under- 
stand now the real reason of his shyness, and she 
admired him for the way in which he had tried to 
master a disagreeable position, until his attack of 
cowardice. 

By the way,” said her father presently, you 
must have been in St. Moritz at the time ; how very 
strange! Perhaps he saw you there. I wonder 
you never noticed him.” 

Oh, there were so many people coming and go- 
ing at St. Moritz,” said Eleanor evasively. 

The Dean knew something about this,” went on 


U6 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


Sir Daniel ; at least, he hinted at it. I think he 
has been very forbearing in saying nothing.” 

What was there to say ? ” asked Eleanor. 
‘‘ The whole thing appears to have been just an 
awkward predicament, that’s all.” 

‘‘ Ah,” said Sir Daniel, I daresay. That’s all 
very well, but it’s made him look a little foolish — 
just a little foolish. He ought to have been more 
careful, in his position. It’s a lesson to him ! ” 

Later in the day he met the Dean, and of course 
the inevitable topic of conversation was started. 

Ah,” said Sir Daniel, “ so what you were hint- 
ing at the other day has all come out. I think I 
got the whole story from him. It was my duty as 
a magistrate to do so.” 

'' No,” replied the Dean, lowering his voice mys- 
teriously, it has not all come out. What / happen 
to know about Canon Smith is quite another story.” 

‘‘ You don’t say so! ” ejaculated Sir Daniel. 

The Dean nodded his head solemnly. 

Indeed I do. I think. Sir Daniel, that perhaps 
I am justified in telling you what I know.” 

Sir Daniel thought so, too. 

Whereupon the Dean laid bare the awful facts 
about the Canon’s gambling and drinking propensi- 
ties. 

'' I cannot help concluding, much against my 
will,” he said, that this affair at St. Moritz only 
corroborates the other.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


217 


His mind was evidently set in the same channel 
of delightful conjecture as that of Bella Millington. 

You see/’ he went on, ‘‘ you see, Sir Daniel, 
Canon Smith has always been evasive as to his 
movements on the Continent. He was evasive with 
you/' 

'' Most evasive — oh, most evasive.” 

‘‘ Quite so. He was evasive with me. 1 say it 
reluctantly, because I should be the last to cast a 
slur upon one of the Chapter; but I am afraid that 
if we were to collect the whole facts we should find 
that Canon Smith’s holiday abroad would by no 
means bear investigation. My wife — who, I’m 
sure, is always most charitable — agrees with me.” 

Dear me, dear me. Yes, I think so too. There 
is something wrong with the man.” 

There is something wrong with the man, and,” 
went on the Dean, ‘‘ it is getting talked about. 
Naturally, this St. Moritz affair is creating a scan- 
dal. It is unpleasant. All the time I have been 
Dean of Frattenbury the Chapter has been above 
suspicion; but now, people will talk, and, as you 
say, there is something wrong with the man. We 
haven’t got to the root of the matter yet.” 

When the Dean mentioned that people would talk, 
he might have included Sir Daniel in that category, 
for the worthy knight generally found it rather a 
difficult matter at any time not to gossip; and at 
this particular juncture he was so excited over what 


218 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


he was pleased to call the exposure of Canon 
Smith,” that he dropped a broad hint to Eleanor 
to the effect that the Dean knew something more 
and something worse about the Canon. By dint of 
a little strategical cross-questioning Eleanor drew 
the salient points from him, and gathered that the 
last state of the scandal was likely to be a great 
deal worse than the first. She did not, to do her 
credit, believe for an instant in the gambling story, 
but she saw that if it got about, especially in con- 
nection with the other, that the Canon was likely to 
be seriously compromised, and she took Everett into 
her confidence and asked him what he thought was 
best to be done. 

By Jove,” exclaimed Everett Horne in disgust, 
I never saw such a hotbed for scandal as that holy 
Close is! It grows there like American Bellbind. 
I wonder where on earth my uncle got hold of such 
a yarn? It’s positively ridiculous.” 

It makes me quite angry,” she replied. I’ve 
an immense respect for Canon Smith — I think he’s 
done wonders — and something ought to be done to 
clear him.” 

“ Serve my uncle right if the Canon had an ac- 
tion against him for slander,” said Everett em- 
phatically. ‘‘ I’ll tell you what, Eleanor, I’ll do 
what I can to get to the bottom of this. Mean- 
while, I think he ought to be told of these rumours.” 

So do I.” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


219 


“Very well,” said the practical Everett; “let’s 
go and call on him now, and tell him.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Eleanor, you don’t want me 
to come with you ? ” 

“ Yes, I do. You may be useful in talking over 
things.” 

“ But, my dear Everett, think how uncomfortable 
it will make the poor dear man.” 

“ Bosh ! He’s got to face you sooner or later, 
and — I’d rather like to see the meeting.” 

So they called on the Canon together, and were 
shown into the drawing-room. A minute later 
Canon Smith entered, looking a little red and un- 
comfortable. There was silence for a moment or 
two, broken by Eleanor. 

“ Everett and I have called to tell you something 
we thought you ought to know,” she began. “ I 
feel sure you won’t visit the father’s sins upon his 
child; and, in the first place, I’m most awfully sorry 
for all you had to go through the other morning.” 

Canon Smith looked at her and she at him; a 
smile began to break upon both their faces. 

“ I’m afraid,” said the Canon, “ that I have been 
rather a dissembler — and I daresay Mr. Horne 
thinks so too.” 

The smile broadened on Eleanor’s face, and a 
twinkle shone in her eyes. She was sitting on a 
low chair. Then, bursting into a laugh, she sud- 
denly exclaimed: 


220 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


One — two — bob! ” 

And she leaned forward as they did on the bob- 
sleighs. 

The Canon’s face was crimson, but he burst into 
a hearty laugh, and the other two caught the infec- 
tion. 

The ‘ Cheshire Cats ’ ! ” said the Canon ; I 
must own up ! ” 

‘‘ Ach-tung ! ” cried Eleanor, shaking with laugh- 
ter. ‘‘ Wasn’t it jolly? ” 

Capital!” 

‘'You remember how you were pitched into the 
snow-bank ? ” 

“ I do, indeed.” 

“ You haven’t forgotten the ‘ Sandy Saint ’? ” 

“ Certainly not.” 

“ Or how you ran away from poor me? ” 

“ It was — er — a sudden impulse.” 

“ Though you had a whole night to sleep on it? ” 
asked Eleanor mischievously. “ Come now, admit 
you were a little afraid of me! ” 

“ Yes, I was,” said the Canon honestly. “ Sev- 
eral times I’ve been almost inclined to speak to you 
about St. Moritz when I met you. I was, to 
tell you the truth, glad at first that you had not 
recognised me, but afterwards, especially when 
I found out that others knew about it, I wished 
you had.” 

“ Yes,” said Eleanor demurely, “ I saw you were 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 221 


glad when you thought I did not remember you at 
the Millingtons’ tea-fight.” 

The canon looked at her in astonishment. 

‘‘ Then you did recognise me ? ” 

Of course I did — but I knew you didn’t want 
me to. And then, afterwards, when I found out 
that there were rumours, I was afraid you might 
hear of them and think I had spread them.” 

No,” replied the Canon, I knew you hadn’t 
— though how the Dean found out about my un- 
fortunate predicament, I am at a loss to tell.” 

“ Come now,” said Everett, don’t call it un- 
fortunate.” 

“ Well,” said the Canon reflectively, I don’t 
think it was — no, I’m sure it wasn’t.” 

“ I’m so glad to hear you say that, Canon 
Smith,” said Eleanor warmly; ‘‘ and you must con- 
fess that, unknowingly, I posted you up in many 
things about Frattenbury. Didn’t I?” 

‘‘ Miss Taylor,” replied the Canon, with the air of 
a man making a not unpleasing admission, I will 
say frankly that that week at St. Moritz altered 
my views on more matters than one.” 

‘‘ I knew it ! ” exclaimed Eleanor triumphantly. 
But now,” broke in Everett, “ let me tell you 
why we called. You say you wonder how my uncle 
got hold of the St. Moritz story? Well, he never 
knew anything about it till you gave your evidence 
before Sir Daniel. It was a very different rumour 


222 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


about you, and we think you ought to know what 
it was.” 

And he told the Canon the principal details. 
The latter looked grave. 

I cannot understand it at all,” he said ; there 
is not a shadow of truth in it.” 

“ We were sure there wasn’t,” replied Eleanor. 

Then the Canon, suddenly seeing the humorous 
side of the situation, burst into a fit of laughter. 

I don’t know whaf your uncle must think of 
me, Mr. Horne,” he said. “ He charged me with 
this new rumour, it appears, and I, thinking he was 
alluding to St. Moritz, told him it was a very ordi- 
nary thing and that many clergymen did it. No 
wonder he was horribly shocked ! ” 

And he recounted the interview in the vestry, 
omitting, of course, the part about Blake. 

‘‘ Now I did nothing at St. Moritz that could 
have given rise to such a story as he heard, did I ? ” 

Eleanor shook her head. 

But,” said Everett, it wasn’t at St. Moritz 
that my uncle meant.” 

Where, then? ” 

‘‘Apparently you gambled at the Monte Carlo 
tables, but you were staying at Mentone.” 

The Canon started. 

“That accounts for it!” he ejaculated. 

“ For what? ” 

“ Oh, nothing,” replied the Canon, slightly con- 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 223 


fused. He was thinking of Jane Rutland’s ques- 
tion. Now he understood. She had been trying 
to clear him, and the thought, somehow, pleased 
him immensely. 

I can assure you the whole story is utterly with- 
out foundation,” he went on; ‘‘it is very good of 
you to come and tell me.” 

“ Not at all,” said Everett ; “ but we think you 
ought to be cleared of the scandal.” 

A consultation followed. Finally Canon Smith 
said that before he did anything he should like to 
run over to Market Shapborough and talk matters 
over with his solicitor. 

“ I shall go to-morrow morning,” he said, “ and 
come back by the last train. I have several things 
to do there. Stransome, my solicitor, is a very 
sensible man*, and I should like to have his advice. 
I certainly don’t feel prepared to allow this scandal 
to circulate, though I should be sorry to have re- 
course to a legal action. I will let you know what 
Stransome says when I return.” 

“ I think you are quke right,” said Eleanor, ris- 
ing to go. 

“ Meanwhile,” said Everett Horne, as he, too, got 
up, “ you may rely upon me to do all in my power 
to find out how and where this rumour originated.” 

“ Thanks very much. Stop a minute ; I want to 
show you both something. Do you mind waiting 
while I go and fetch it ? ” 


^24 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


He went to his study, and returned presently, 
holding a letter in his hand. 

I will take you both into my confidence,” he 
said, ‘‘ and explain to you what was scarcely neces- 
sary to do in court — the real reason why I never 
suspected this man Jones of being a thief, but only 
looked upon him as a practical joker of an unpleas- 
ant kind. I must tell you that we had had some 
conversation on the subject, and that he had been 
advocating my adopting lay clothing on my holiday. 
Now this is what I found pinned to his suit in my 
room the next morning.” 

He handed Eleanor the letter. She read it out 
loud. 

‘‘ Do you know, I sympathise with you deeply,” 
she said, after she had read it. “ I can quite under- 
stand why you said nothing at the hotel, and why 
you made no attempt to follow up this man Jones. 
But he had a strong sense of the ridiculous.” 

‘‘ He had,” exclaimed the Canon drily. 

‘‘Everett,” said Eleanor, a few minutes after 
they had left the Canon, “this man Jones took 
Canon Smith’s clothes and went off as a parson.” 

“ Well?” 

“ Perhaps he could solve the riddle of the Men- 
tone scandal.” 

“ By George, that’s a good idea ! ” said Everett ; 
“but if that’s the case, the sooner the police get 
him, the better for the Canon.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


The next morning the Canon went off by an early 
train to Market Shapborough, and Everett Horne, 
who had been thinking out the case carefully, after 
looking over his morning consignment of fish, 
walked round to the Deanery and asked to see his 
uncle. Without any preface he struck home at 
once. 

‘‘ I understand. Uncle, that you’ve been propa- 
gating a slander about Canon Smith,” he began, 
‘‘ and, as he’s a particular friend of mine, I thought 
I’d come and see you about it.” 

‘‘ Really, Everett,” said the Dean, who did not 
care at all for his nephew’s blunt manner, ‘‘ I must 
decline to give you any information about it.” 

‘‘ Oh, very well,” said Everett, '' just as you like 
— only I happen to know that you told Sir Daniel 
Taylor that Canon Smith was playing at Monte 
Carlo, and was drunk at Mentone. I thought the 
Canon ought to know, and I told him.” 

‘‘ That was quite superfluous,” said the Dean dis- 
dainfully; “I told him myself a fortnight ago.” 

“ You thought you did, but you didn’t,” replied 
Everett. “ The Canon explained that you spoke 
225 


226 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


ambiguously about his behaviour abroad, and he 
simply imagined you had got hold of the St. Moritz 
story, and were referring to that.” 

The Dean was nonplussed. Off went his glasses, 
and he began tapping the table with them, pinching 
up his lower lip with his other hand. 

“ Oh,” he said, ‘‘ is that what he said? ” 

Look here. Uncle,” said Everett slowly, Fm 
not going to mince matters. This story about 
Canon Smith and Monte Carlo is, in plain language, 
a damned lie.” 

Everett ! I beg that you will not use such lan- 
guage.” 

Oh, it’s no worse than parts of the Athanasian 
Creed, and far more charitable. Now, will you tell 
me how you got hold of it? ” 

“ No, it was told me in confidence.” 

‘‘ That didn’t prevent you from publishing it, and 
it is the publication of a libel that the law looks at. 
I’m sorry you don’t feel inclined to tell me, for I 
really think it would be best for you; but, of course, 
you know your own business. Good morning. 
Uncle.” 

And he picked up his hat and stick, which he had 
laid on the floor. 

But it was too much for the Dean. He had 
turned very white. Everett had judged his man, 
and attacked him perfectly. 

“ Do you mean to imply, Everett,” said the Dean, 


the canon in residence 227 


“ that you think there is any danger of — ahem — 
an action? 

Everett stood up. 

“ If I were in Canon Smith’s place,” he said, “ I 
would have a full explanation from you; and if I 
didn’t get it. I’d pretty soon claim damages for 
slander — I hope he will, too.” 

“ But,” said the Dean, who was beginning to 
hedge, ‘‘ I had the story on very good authority, 
and ” 

‘‘ Did you ever know a scandal that wasn't 
founded on that phrase ? ” sneered Everett. 

“ And,” went on the Dean, ignoring the sarcasm, 
“ I did him the justice to warn him ” 

To threaten him ! ” 

‘‘ I — er — told him I thought the Bishop ought 
to know, certainly; that was only my duty, and he 
did not deny the allegation. Of course, what you 
have told me now puts a different light upon it. 
And yet — and yet — the facts are very circumstan- 
tial.” 

All right. Uncle ; the slander emanates from 
you, and there’s an end of it.” 

‘‘ Stop a minute — stop a minute. It does not 
emanate from me. It was brought to me in con- 
fidence ” 

And you gave the show away, you see ; so 
you’re liable.” 

Tut, tut! ” exclaimed the Dean irritably, “you 


^28 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


are judging hastily. Perhaps I had better tell you 
the whole story.’’ 

“ The fact of the matter is, Uncle,” said Everett, 

that I don’t quite understand your system of 
ethics. Perhaps it is because I have not studied 
the theological and casuistical aspect of morality, 
but only look at things from a rough, matter-of-fact 
standpoint. I don’t see how you could allow such 
confidences, when Canon Smith’s reputation was 
concerned.” 

The Dean winced and flushed crimson. 

You forget,” he said, ‘‘ that in — er — my posi- 
tion as a priest of the Church it is sometimes — 
ahem — ^my duty to — er — receive statements ” 

I believe,” broke in Everett coldly, ‘‘ that in the 
Roman Church a priest is not supposed to listen to 
any private statements in Confession that have any 
relation to a third person. It is an excellent rule 
for all priests to observe.” 

The Dean bit his lip. 

I will not discuss the matter any further,” he 
said, ‘‘ but I will try and give you the opportunity 
of seeing for yourself that my information was ex- 
tremely credible. Please wait while I write a 
note.” 

He sat down at his writing-table and wrote the 
following : — 

“ Dear Miss Millington, — I shall be much 
obliged if you will kindly allow my nephew to see 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 229 


the letter from your sister’s friend that you showed 
me some weeks ago. He is acting on behalf of 
Canon Smith, and, as certain reports have reached 
his ear, I think it will be best for him to know whence 
they emanated. I cannot very well tell him myself, 
as you showed me the letter in confidence. — ^Yours 
very truly, F. Horne.” 

“ There,” he said, directing the letter and hand- 
ing it to Everett, if you take this to Miss Milling- 
ton I think that ” 

“ That you will be safe — eh. Uncle? ” interrupted 
Everett, who was more disgusted than ever. “ I 
thought there were some old women at the bottom 
of it, and that they probably lived in the Close. I 
hear the bell ringing for service, and I won’t detain 
you from going and saying a thanksgiving. Good 
morning! ” 

He left his uncle, who began to robe, feeling 
exceedingly angry and uncomfortable as he put on 
his surplice. A few minutes later a verger was 
preceding the Dean through the cloisters, while 
Everett called at the Millingtons'. James opened 
the door and told him, in answer to his enquiries, 
that he was not sure whether Miss Millington was 
at home, but he would see, if Everett would take 
a seat in the drawing-room. 

In a minute or two Jane Rutland entered, looking 
rather flushed and excited, and in her hat and 
jacket. 


^30 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

“ Good morning,” she said. My aunts have all 
gone to service at the Cathedral.” 

“ Oh,” he said, ‘‘ I’ll call again. I want to see 
Miss Millington particularly. Perhaps you’ll kindly 
give her this note from the Dean? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, Mr. Horne,” she went on with a little 
hesitation in her manner. I believe you're a 
friend of Canon Smith?” 

I am,” he replied ; it was really on his business 
that I called this morning. There’s a wretched 
scandal on foot about him, and I want to get to 
the bottom of it.” 

He put it out as a feeler, in his blunt manner, 
for Jane somehow gave him confidence. 

‘‘ I believe I can help you,” she said, her face 
brightening with pleasure. “ Indeed, I was just 
going to ask you whether you would help me and go 
and see Canon Smith. I have just had a letter that 
I think would interest him.” 

He is away to-day — at Market Shapborough.” 

Oh ! But there is no time to be lost — I’m sure 
of it.” 

‘‘Perhaps I might see this letter?” he asked. 
“ I’m in the Canon’s confidence, and I might be 
able to act for him.” 

“ I’m sure you could,” she answered ; “ here’s the 
letter, and this is the part that refers to him. It’s 
from my friend, Maud Caxton, who is companion 
to a Mrs. Barrett. They have been travelling on 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


the Continent for some months, and this is written 
as you see, from Ostend/' 

The particular passage in the letter was this : — 

“ It’s so long since I wrote, that I hardly remember 
the last news you had, but I fancy Mrs. Barrett must 
have told Miss Daisy Millington about the clergy- 
man we saw at Mentone, and who turned out to be 
a Canon of Frattenbury Cathedral. He was a dread- 
ful character. Well, I saw him again to-day, here at 
Ostend! — only the funny part of it is that he’s not 
dressed as a clergyman now — ^perhaps he’s ashamed 
of himself. He didn’t see me, but I recognised him 
at once. He’s evidently staying at the Hotel D’Angle- 
terre, and was with some very French-looking ladies ! 
I wonder he isn’t afraid of being found out ! ” 

Everett Horne brought his hand down with a slap 
on his knee. 

Now I understand!” he cried. ‘‘Of course 
this clears the good Canon at once.” 

“ Yes, yes,” exclaimed Jane, “ but there’s more in 
it, don’t you think? I’m sure this is Jones — the 
man who changed clothes with him at Thusis — the 
Worthingham Bank robber.” 

“ Hallo ! ” ejaculated Everett, “ there’s something 
in that.” 

“Of course there is — he wore Canon Smith’s 
clothes when he went to Paris. Then he must have 
gone south to Mentone.” 


232 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


How did he come to be mistaken for Canon 
Smith there ? ” 

ICs no secret now ; Fll tell you.” 

And she explained how Maud Caxton’s letter re- 
ferred to the finding of one of Canon Smith’s cards 
at Mentone on the strange clergyman. 

I see ! ” exclaimed Everett — '' he had taken our 
friend’s visiting-cards as well as his clothes. 
You’re right, Miss Rutland, he’s the man. When 
was that letter of yours posted ? ” 

Yesterday.” 

“ There’s not a minute to be lost, then ; I’ll go 
and see about it at once.” 

What are you going to do ? ” 

“ Get this man arrested — I’m off to the Super- 
intendent. Splendid! Miss Rutland, splendid! 
You’ve cleared the Canon of this nasty scandal. 
Never mind about giving that letter to your aunt 
now.” 

In less than an hour’s time Scotland Yard re- 
ceived the news by wire, and immediately tele- 
graphed to Ostend. By one o’clock that day the 
Ostend police moved. 

Meanwhile the Canon consulted his solicitor at 
Market Shapborough, explaining everything to him. 
Mr. Stransome thought the question over, and fi- 
nally advised the Canon to let him write to the Dean 
a courteous letter asking for the foundation of the 
rumour. To this plan Canon Smith consented, as 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


233 


he thought it might be a salutary lesson to the 
Dean. He transacted some other business of a 
parochial nature with his curate, who was in charge 
of the parish during his residence at Frattenbury, 
and finally took the last train back. 

He was looking casually out of the window while 
stopping at Foxby Junction, when his eye caught 
the contents bill of an evening paper, and he read 
these words: — 

‘‘ Arrest of the Worthingham Bank Robber ! ” 

In a couple of seconds he hailed a passing news- 
boy and bought a paper, eagerly turning it over 
until he found the information he wanted in a late 
news paragraph. 

Central News T elegrams. — Ronaldson, the man 
who has been wanted for some months in connection 
with the Worthingham Bank Robbery of last year, has 
been arrested to-day at Ostend, where he was staying 
at an hotel. The circumstances are not yet forthcom- 
mg. 

He arrived at Frattenbury in an exceedingly 
excited state. There, on the platform, he found 
Everett Horne waiting for him. The Canon waved 
the newspaper as he got out of the train. 

“ Have you heard ? he cried. 

“ Rather ! ’’ replied Everett, shaking his hand 


234 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

warmly. I congratulate you. WeVe been at 
work here to some purpose to-day.’’ 

‘‘ What do you mean? ” 

Well,” said Everett, you have to thank Miss 
Rutland for what has happened; it was she who 
put us on the right scent. I’ve got some supper 
waiting for you at home, so come along and I’ll tell 
you the whole story.” 

As they passed Rice’s shop the tobacconist saw 
them and darted out. 

Very glad to hear the news. Canon Smith,” he 
exclaimed, “ and I know you’ll be glad, too.” 

“ Thank you, thank you,” said the Canon. 

So,” soliloquised Canon Smith before he retired 
for the night, ‘‘ it was she who found it out. I shall 
certainly call and thank her to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Prisoner at the Bar,” said the judge in a severe 
voice, ‘‘ you have heard the verdict of the jury, a 
verdict with which I entirely agree. Have you any- 
thing to say for yourself before I proceed to pro- 
nounce sentence upon you ? ” 

George Ronaldson, alias Jones, alias Brown, 
looked round the crowded court unabashed. He 
was the same man with whom the Canon had dined 
that night at the Thusis hotel, but had shaved off 
his moustache. Overwhelming evidence had been 
brought against him, and he stood there, convicted 
of having stolen a very large sum in notes and gold 
from the Worthingham Bank. 

Among others the Canon had given evidence 
against him, proving him to have been the man 
from whom he had received the stolen note. He 
had conducted his own case, but while cross-ques- 
tioning the other witnesses smartly and at some 
length, he had allowed Canon Smith’s statement to 
go unchallenged. 

‘‘ Have you anything to say ? ” 

Ronaldson’s eye lit on the Canon, who was wait- 
ing to hear sentence pronounced. 

235 


2S6 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


“ Yes, my lord,” he replied, if you will kindly 
allow me to do so.” 

“ Go on,” said the judge. 

“ Well, my lord, I congratulate the gentlemen of 
the jury upon their shrewdness, and acknowledge 
the justice of their verdict ” — here he waved his 
hand affably to the foreman. ‘‘ Fate has given me 
up. As a philosopher I am resigned. I have had 
some very enjoyable months at the expense of the 
Worthingham Bank, and I am glad to know that 
the Bank could well afford it.” 

‘‘ Ronaldson,” interrupted the judge, I warn 
you that such statements as these are not to the 
point.” 

Thank you, my lord. What I wanted to say is, 
that I am sorry I have put Canon Smith to some 
inconvenience, and that I have been the cause, so 
I understand, of some unfortunate rumours about 
him. I feel I owe him an apology. My changing 
clothes with him was a necessity, and I did it as 
gracefully as possible, giving him an explanation 
that he quite understood without telling him the 
real reason. But I never meant to leave that note 
in my waistcoat. It was foolish of me. It has 
made things unpleasant for him, and has recoiled 
on myself as well. I hope he will accept my apolo- 
gies. The police have charge of his clerical gar- 
ments which I borrowed, and I trust they will give 
them to him. They are little the worse for wear. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 2S7 


If he has my clothes still, I make him a present of 
them as some little compensation. He may find 
them useful in his holidays; if not, I have no doubt 
he has deserving poor in his parish. That is all I 
have to say, my lord.’^ 

The judge had been growing sterner than ever, 
especially as he saw more than one smile on the 
faces around him. He addressed the prisoner se- 
verely, dwelling at some length on the enormity of 
the crime having been committed by an intellectual 
man. 

As to your apology to Canon Smith,” he went 
on, ‘‘ while regretting your flippant manner, I am 
glad you had sufficient decency left you to make 
it. The injury which you might very easily have 
done to one engaged in a sacred calling is no small 
matter, and I am glad to know that Canon Smith 
has been cleared of most unpleasant rumours re- 
garding him. George Ronaldson, I sentence you to 
seven years’ penal servitude ! ” 

Ronaldson bowed. 

Thank you, my lord,” he said ; I consider 
you have done your duty — and even exceeded 
it.” 

He was led away by the warders in charge of 
him, while Canon Smith, amid the subdued buzz 
that succeeded the passing of the sentence, pressed 
forward toward the judge to catch the latter as he 
went out. 


2SS THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

Excuse me,” he said, “ but I want you to 
grant me a favour. May I have an interview with 
Ronaldson ? ” 

Oh, certainly. Canon Smith,” said the judge, 
smiling slightly, for the humour of the situation 
had really appealed to him; ‘‘ if you will come into 
the room I will make an order at once.” 

Ten minutes later the Canon found himself in 
front of a double grating, while Ronaldson was 
brought behind it by a warder. 

‘‘ I came to thank yo*u for your apology,” said 
the Canon, ‘‘ and to say how sorry I am to see 
you in this position. Can I do anything for you ? ” 

Ronaldson looked at him keenly. 

It is very good of you. Canon Smith,” he said. 
“ I was afraid you would be terribly angry.” 

“ No, Fm not— or I shouldn’t be here now.” 

“ I believe you, and I appreciate it. Thank you, 
but there is nothing you can do. I must grin and 
bear it.” 

“ That is so — and afterwards ? ” 

I can’t look forward to the end of seven 
years.” 

‘‘ But I can. I’m not going to preach to you, but 
only to say this: you will be allowed to receive 
occasional letters and visitors. Would letters and 
visits from myself be welcome to you in any way? 
I don’t want to presume, and I’m only speaking as 
man to man,” 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


239 


A serious look came across the man’s face, to be 
succeeded by a slight smile. 

Did you try the experiment I proposed to you 
at our last interview ? ” he asked. 

“ I did — to the letter.” 

I thought so. If you hadn’t tried it you 
wouldn’t have put things in this way. Yes, I should 
like you to write and to see me if you will. No 
one else is ever likely to do it. Thank you. Canon 
Smith. I say, I hope you didn’t mind what I said 
about those clothes ? ” 

No,” said the Canon, I don’t think I shall 
want to wear them again, though I admit they 
served a purpose; so I shall keep the knickerbocker 
suit and your dress things till you come out.” 

‘‘ I shall scarcely have any use for the latter just 
then.” 

“ Yes, you will. I generally dress for dinner, 
and, if I’m alive, I shall want you to be my guest 
for a week or two.” 

Ronaldson said nothing. Something welling up 
in his throat prevented him. 

‘‘ You see,” went on the Canon quietly, ‘‘ I really 
owe you a debt of gratitude, though I was very 
angry with you at the time. You forced things 
upon me in a new light, and I don’t mean to lose 
sight of you. One good turn deserves another.” 

The flippant look had passed from Ronaldson’s 
face, and he was silent. 


240 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 

“ Tell me,” said the Canon, “ for my own curi- 
osity. What prompted you to change clothes ? 
Had you thought about doing so before we began 
that conversation.” 

No,” replied Ronaldson, ‘‘ it was the conversa- 
tion and the newspaper that put it into my head. 
I saw a paragraph in the paper stating that the 
police were close on my track, and then the idea 
of the disguise came to me. I gave you a drugged 
cigar to make you sleep. The ticket for Paris 
was a blind. I got out at Zurich, crossed over to 
Lucerne, went through the St. Gothard to Genoa, 
and then on to Mentone.” 

“ Where you were taken for me,” said the Canon. 

I was afraid I was,” replied the man. I took 
the name of Smith out of bravado, having your 
card-case, but I never used any of the cards. One 
day, at Mentone, I dropped the case, and there was 
a chance of people seeing inside. Then it struck 
me that perhaps I wasn’t safe, so off I went. Now 
I come to think of it, it’s a wonder I was never 
arrested before.” 

The Canon felt his shoulder tapped. 

“ Time’s up, please, sir,” said a warder respect- 
fully, but firmly ; I must ask you to come now.” 

Good-bye ; you’ll hear from me,” said the 
Canon. 

‘‘ Good-bye — and thank you,” replied Ronaldson 
in a low voice. 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE ^41 

Not once had Canon Smith upbraided the man 
or mentioned his crime; and therein lay wisdom 
and the power of something broader than the ec- 
clesiastical mind and judgment. 


CHAPTER XIX 


The Misses Millington were seated in their prim 
drawing-room. The eldest of the three was knitting 
assiduously, Bella was reading, and Daisy was 
struggling through the accounts of her ‘‘ Mission to 
Cinder-Sifters.” Jane was doing some needlework 
in a far corner. 

I must confess I am surprised,” exclaimed Miss 
Millington, breaking the silence and addressing no 
one in particular; and I should never have believed 
it if Mrs. Horne had not told me so herself. What 
could he see in her? I don't suppose he sees any- 
thing — but then, she has money, or will have it.” 

‘‘ After the way that Everett Horne has behaved, 
I wonder at Sir Daniel consenting — forty-six pence 
are three and tenpence,” murmured Daisy. 

‘‘ I don’t believe he has consented,” said Bella, 
laying her book on her lap ; “ I think Eleanor 
Taylor is one of those mannish girls who ignore 
their parents. I never liked her. She is distinctly 
fast.” 

“ She is,” said Miss Millington authoritatively, 
‘'not quite a lady, and her manners are not nice, 
I believe her mother was an excellent woman, but 
242 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 245 

we never knew her. Things are so changed now, 
and since her father was knighted she has had 
opportunities that one could scarcely have expected 
for her.” 

‘‘And she’s made the best of them,” said Bella 
sourly ; “ it is a pity.” 

“ What does the Dean say? ” asked Daisy. 

“ Oh,” replied Miss Millington, “ the Dean has 
had a great deal to put up with from his nephew; 
he has suffered much, and he is so good about it.” 

“ If he keeps on the shop,” said Bella, “ we can't 
call on her.” 

“Of course not, dear,” replied Miss Millington; 
“ no one will. Mr. Horne has been looked upon as 
an eccentric, but this quite alters the case.” 

“ I expect,” went on Bella, “ that in his heart of 
hearts Sir Daniel is really pleased about the engage- 
ment. The Dean’s family is a very good one.” 

“ Excellent,” said Daisy ; “ but the shop consti- 
tutes a rift within the lute.” 

“ Sir Daniel is really a tradesman,” mused Miss 
Millington. 

“ Er — yes — but ” said Bella, and looked the 

rest of the sentence. 

“ Exactly, dear. Of course there is no compari- 
son.” 

“ It would be better if they both left Frattenbury 
when they are married,” said Daisy. 

“ Yes,” said her eldest sister, “ it will make things 


£44 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


very awkward for all of us. She won’t be married 
in the Cathedral, will she? Of course she won’t. 
The Dean would never allow it.” 

“ Oh, he couldn't! ” ejaculated Bella; “ fancy the 
Cathedral being used for such a marriage ! ” 

“ Quite out of the question,” said Miss Milling- 
ton. ‘‘ How people would talk ! I shouldn’t be 
surprised if the Dean didn’t marry them at all. I 
don’t see how he can. If Mr. Horne would give 
up his business, then it would be different.” 

I wonder if they’ll ask Canon Smith to marry 
them,” said Bella ; he is more their sort.” 

A quick blush rose to the cheeks of Jane Rutland, 
but she went on quietly with her work. 

Yes, indeed,” said Daisy, ‘‘ he’s quite one of 
their set — down to his socialism.” 

‘‘ He went out of residence this morning,” said 
Miss Millington, ‘‘ and dear Canon Jackson comes 
in to-day. We must ask him and Mrs. Jackson 
to lunch.” 

Dear me ! ” exclaimed Bella, has Canon Smith 
been here three months ? ” 

Yes,” replied Daisy. 

“ And I never remember such a perturbed three 
months since we lived in the Close,” said Miss 
Millington ; ‘‘ we may breathe quietly now.” 

Jane set her lips tightly, but still said nothing. 

Depend upon it,” snapped Bella, “ there was 


THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


245 


something wrong about him. Of course he’s sup- 
posed to be exonerated now, but I think he came out 
of it very badly. And one cannot forget that he 
was content to go about in a most unseemly man- 
ner.” 

Exactly,” replied Miss Millington ; “ you mean 
at St. Moritz? Yes, he was not the man to make 
a Canon of. Some low, east-end parish, where 
there was no society, would have suited his proclivi- 
ties better.. I shall never forget how badly he has 
treated the Dean.” 

‘‘ Aunty,” broke in Jane in a low, clear voice, 
please don’t say such things about Canon Smith ; 
they are not kind,, and they are untrue.” 

“ Jane ! ” exclaimed her aunt, turning towards 
her, I don’t quite understand you.” 

“ I thought I spoke plainly. Aunty.” 

'*Oh! We shall speak of Canon Smith as we 
think proper ! ” exclaimed Miss Millington in a tone 
of awful rebuke. 

Not while I am present, please.” 

There was something in the girl’s quiet, de- 
termined manner that caused the three spinsters to 
look at her in astonishment, and made Bella say 
angrily : 

‘‘ It is not your place, Jane, as a young girl, to 
talk to us like this. I think you forget yourself.” 

It is my place to defend Canon Smith against 


^46 THE CANON IN RESIDENCE 


unkind attacks^ and I don’t forget myself at all,” 
said Jane, blushing to the roots of her hair but 
speaking with the same set determination. 

“ And what right, pray, have you to defend Canon 
Smith, as you call it ? ” demanded Miss Millington. 

‘‘ Because,” replied Jane, her voice falling lower 
and her breath coming and going faster, “ because 
yesterday Canon Smith asked me to be his wife, 
and I consented ! ” 




(( 


!! ” 

I! !!!” 


Such were the remarks that emanated from the 
three Miss Millingtons, and which speedily found 
echo in the sacred precincts of the Close of Fratten- 
bury Cathedral. 


THE END 


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